Underneath this Smile
by wicked.witchy.princess
Summary: Lily Evans has had a hard life. She has lost trust in pretty much everyone around her. At school she's constantly teased, and at home she's either ignored or beaten. James Potter wants to help her, but she refuses to admit she has a problem.
1. Home

**Underneath this Smile**

**Chapter 1 Home**

_I'll be coming home just to be alone_

'_Cuz I know you're not there and I know that you don't care_

_I can hardly wait to leave this place_

_No matter how I hard I try_

_You're never satisfied_

_This is not a home_

_I think I'm better off alone_

**Home by Three Days Grace**

Lily Evans awoke before the sun was even up. She lay in her bed staring at the ceiling for over an hour before she finally decided to get up. Rolling out of bed, she ran her fingers through her shoulder-length dark red hair before putting it up into a ponytail with practiced fingers. She put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt at random and tiptoed down the carpeted stairs of her childhood home. She entered the kitchen and noiselessly poured herself a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee.

Today was the last day before she returned to Hogwarts for her seventh and final year. She was more than excited to finally be going back to school for a number of reasons, one of them being that she was Head Girl this year, which meant that she got to have a separate living quarters from the rest of the Gryffindors. The girls in her year hated her, and the feeling was more than mutual. The past six years had almost been a constant war between her and the rest of the girls, but this year she wouldn't be sharing a dormitory with them, which meant seeing them a lot less. It was easy to ignore them in classes and in the Great Hall, but living with them was quite a different story altogether.

When she had finished her cereal she rinsed out her bowl and set it in the sink. Then she made herself a peanut butter sandwich and sat down again, thinking of some of the other reasons she was glad she was going off to school tomorrow. She would be getting away from her family for another year, for which she was extremely grateful. Her parents had gotten divorced back when she was only a little girl, and she mostly lived with her father now. She saw her mother only occasionally, perhaps only five times a year. Her older sister, Petunia, had moved away three years ago, making Lily very happy. Petunia hated Lily, simply because she was a witch. But after Petunia had left, their father had even more excuse to pick on Lily.

Dean Evans was an alcoholic, and an abusive one at that. He came home nearly every night drunk and would actively seek his younger daughter out to become his personal punching bag. Even when he was sober—which was a rare event indeed—he would still push Lily around. The abuse had started when she was eight, two years after her parents' divorce. Dean had abused Petunia, too, on occasion when he grew bored with his red haired daughter, but that was almost more rare than him coming home sober.

Lily chewed her sandwich, thinking about the night before. She fingered her left eye gingerly, knowing it would be badly bruised now. Once again her father had come home drunk and found Lily seated at the kitchen table finishing up her Charms essay. The events following her father's homecoming were a bit of a blur. She remembered falling to the tiled floor at the first punch, and everything after that was a bit fuzzy.

After finishing her sandwich Lily tiptoed back up the stairs and into the bathroom, closing the door softly after her. She had no desire to wake her dad up, knowing very well what would happen if she did. She knelt on the floor, lifted up the lid of the toilet and sighed, knowing that she was about to feel better. Opening her mouth, she flicked up her middle finger and slid it down her throat until she hit the right spot. Her shoulders bunched up, and her stomach heaved its contents into the stool. Sandwich, cereal and coffee all came back up her gullet, and she smiled in satisfaction. Wiping her mouth with the back of a hand, she stood up and washed her hands, rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth. Then she flushed the toilet and went back into her room to start packing her clothes.

A few hours later she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, and her heartbeat sped up. Panicking slightly, she set down her History of Magic book and got off her bed. Dean was awake. Her panicked mind began running through a hundred or more situations she could possibly find herself in. What to do? Should she go downstairs and say hello? Offer to make him breakfast? Or would that only make him angry? He was bound to have a headache. Maybe she would just stay in her room and hope he forgot she was even there. But what if he was expecting her to come down stairs? What if he got pissed that she wasn't down there now and came up there?

"Jesus," she muttered, cursing under her breath. Finally she went to her door and opened it slowly, peering down the stairs. It was still dark, as she'd expected. With his hangover it wasn't likely that he would use any lights. Perhaps he would be nice today. Sometimes he was like that. Sometimes he even apologized for his behaviour. But that never stopped him from doing it again.

She padded down the stairs in her socks, and found her dad sitting at the kitchen table.

"Open the blinds," he growled at her without even looking up.

"Yes, Daddy," she said obediently, and walked back into the living room, where she opened the blinds on the large windows there and pulled back the curtains. Then she went back into the kitchen, poured her father a glass of water, and took it to where he was sitting. She also brought him the aspirin bottle. He took the bottle and glass of water from her hands without a word, shook out five of the little white pills, and gulped them down with the water.

Lily stood off to the side nervously, not sure what she should do.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there like an idiot or are you going to make some breakfast?" her father demanded, turned round to face her. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and he needed to shave. "Are you even listening to me? You stupid, useless girl! Get me some food already!"

She nodded her head quickly, pulled out a pan, and began making scrambled eggs and French toast for her father. She set down a steaming plate of food in front of her father and stood back out of his way again.

He began to devour the eggs immediately. Between mouthfuls he managed to ask, "Aren't you going to eat?"

She simply shook her head, not bothering to tell him that she had already eaten.

He glared at her and cut into the French toast after drenching it in syrup. "That's probably a good thing anyway," he said cruelly, shoving a large bite in his mouth. "You're starting to get fat."

Once again she simply nodded her head without speaking. It was easier that way. When he turned his full attention back to his breakfast she looked down at her stomach. She used to think of herself as rather skinny, but her father had convinced her otherwise. That's how the throwing up started. Plus she was prone to stress eating now; after a session with her father she would usually stay up for hours afterward stuffing her face with any form of food she could get her hands on, and when she was finally done she spent about another hour throwing everything back up. It felt good afterwards, though she couldn't exactly say why.

The phone rang, and Dean got up to answer it. "Hello," he barked into the phone. There was a small pause as the person on the other line answered him. He seemed to be getting angrier and angrier at every word they spoke. "What the hell are you doing calling this early in the fucking morning?" he yelled. "Some people like to sleep in!"

Lily cringed and backed against the counter. She hated it when her father yelled or got angry. She thought about sneaking back up to her room, but thought better of it. That would only make it worse for her later on. After all, she still had one more night of him to endure before Hogwarts.

After a while he thrust the phone out to her and stormed out of the kitchen. She barely managed to catch it before it hit the kitchen floor. "Hello?"

"Hi honey," her mother's voice answered.

"Oh, hi Mom," Lily answered timidly. She hated talking with her mother almost as much as her father.

"I see your father's in a crappy mood this morning," Karen Evans said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Um, yeah, I guess you could say that," she replied. "I don't think he feels well today." It was a standard excuse she used with everyone who said that about her father. What it really meant was that he had a hangover.

"Well that figures," her mother said. "Anyway. I just called to see how everything was going with you. I haven't seen you in a while."

"Things are good," Lily lied, swallowing as her dad re-entered the kitchen. "I was actually just getting ready to go back to school. The train leaves tomorrow."

"Does it really? How time flies! It feels like I haven't seen you all summer!"

"That's because you haven't, Mom. You've been so busy with work that you said you just couldn't handle a visit from me, remember?"

Silence. She prepared herself for a lecture as her father sat back down to finish his breakfast. "Lily, I must have told you a hundred times that work is really important right now," Karen said stiffly. "I want to be able to afford all the things Roger and I need, and I can't do that and keep track of you at the same time. You know that."

Roger was her mother's new boyfriend. They had recently moved in together. "I know. It's okay."

"I really can't believe that you'd be so selfish as to be jealous of my new life, Lily. Really. You're almost seventeen, for heaven's sake! I thought you would be happy for me. You know how much the divorce hurt me, but Roger makes me happy, and I thought you would be able to respect that. Petunia respects it, and she understands. Why can't you?"

_Here we go again_, Lily thought, and felt her old anger bubble to the surface. "I guess I'm just not perfect like Petunia," she snapped.

Her mother sighed. "You know that's not what I meant," she said as if dealing with a two year old throwing another tantrum.

"Then what _do_ you mean?"

"Lily, don't do this right now," Karen said, loosing her patience. "I don't want to start a fight."

"Then why do you keep bringing this up? Who says I can't respect your 'new life'? Did I ever directly tell you that I was jealous? I don't think so. You were the one complaining about how I never visit you, but you're also the one who keeps telling me you're too busy!"

"Really now," her mother snapped back. "You're being very immature about the whole thing. I _was_ going to say that you should come to my house for Christmas, but now I think that wouldn't be a very good idea!"

"You're absolutely right, Mom!" she retorted angrily. "I don't _want_ to come to your house, not if you're going to act like this the whole time."

"Act like _what_? You're the one behaving childishly!"

"Jesus Christ, Mother! You always do this! You always twist my words around and make it seem like I'm this terrible person or something!"

"Watch your mouth, young lady! Just because you're a witch doesn't mean you can just go around taking the name of—"

Lily clicked the off button, ending the conversation altogether. Then she set the phone down on the table, and cleaned up the breakfast dishes.

"So, she said she wanted you to go over there for Christmas," Dean said calmly as Lily scrubbed his plate in the sink. When she didn't reply, he asked, "Are you?"

"No," she replied. "Well, I don't know. Maybe, maybe not."

"You haven't seen her all summer."

"I know."

"It might be nice if you see her once in a while. She feels like you don't love her anymore."

"I know. But she was being such a bitch on the phone, Daddy." The one good thing about Dean was that he didn't care if she cussed. Her mother did. "I don't know if I want to go over there. She's always so busy that she hardly even notices when I'm there anyway, so what's the point?"

Dean didn't reply. Instead he left the kitchen and went to lie down on the couch to sleep off the rest of his hangover. If she was lucky he would sleep for the rest of the day.


	2. Underneath this Smile

**Chapter 2 Underneath this Smile**

_Underneath this smile_

_My world is slowly caving in_

All the while I'm hanging on 

_Cuz that is all I know_

**Underneath this Smile by Hilary Duff**

The next morning she woke up early again, and finished packing her trunk. Then she raided the kitchen, finishing two boxes of cereal by herself and then threw it all back up. It was her daily summer morning routine. Wake up, lay in bed for about an hour, get up and eat, throw up, and go back to bed for a few hours. It was habitual now; she'd been performing this same routine for about four years now, ever since her sister had moved out.

She took a hot shower, scrubbing every inch of her body until her skin was pink and her scalp was sore. Then she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom naked and examined her body. It had been while since she had actually looked in the mirror at all. Normally she hated it, because she was forced to confront what she thought of as her disgusting, fat body. She pinched the parts of her body she viewed as fat: her stomach, her upper arms, her thighs and butt and her calves. It was all gross.

_No wonder nobody loves me_, she thought miserably. She was disgusting, she decided. A walking bag of fat, plain and simple. Her eyes settled on the patches of colour over her body. Black, blue and purple where the fresh bruises were, and yellow and green where the old ones were trying to heal. There was a deep gash down her right shoulder where her father had shoved her into a kitchen chair that had broken on the impact. That had been last night. She fingered the cut carefully, thinking that it would probably leave a scar if she didn't get it fixed. She probably needed stitches, or at least a good healing potion. Unfortunately, she didn't have access to either one, so she would just have to deal with it.

Finally she got dressed (again, jeans and a shirt chosen at random), dragged her trunk downstairs, and wrote a note for her father, who still wasn't awake yet.

_Daddy,_

_Gone to school. Will write later. Take care._

_Lily_

She taped the note to the fridge (he would go there eventually for a beer) and left the house. She hailed a taxi to take her to King's Cross, where she would catch the Hogwarts Express. At least she was safe from Dean at Hogwarts. He couldn't beat her there. People would ask about the bruises—mostly the professors—and she would shrug them off, passing it off as just summer injuries playing soccer, and eventually they would forget. Of course she didn't play soccer, but the teachers didn't know that.

At long last the taxi reached the train station and she paid the driver, hauled her trunk out of the boot of the taxi, and wandered over to get a trolley. All around platforms nine and ten people she recognized from school milled about with their families, saying goodbye and making last minute preparations before the train departed.

Lily pushed her way through the crowd with little polite "Excuse me" phrases periodically. She walked through the barrier separating platforms nine and ten, using the crowd of people as cover from the Muggles. She was transported to platform nine and three quarters, standing in front of the scarlet steam engine that would take her away to her sanctuary.

Near one of the doors to the train, a tall boy with black hair stood waving at her. Her heartbeat sped up, and she rushed toward him, working her way through the throng of students. He held out his arms for her, and she sank into them gratefully, holding back tears.

"Hi Brady," she said when she finally managed to rein in her tears. Brady Johnson was a seventh year Slytherin who also happened to be Lily's boyfriend.

"I saved you a seat," he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "We have a whole compartment to ourselves."

She set her head against his chest and sighed happily. She had barely seen him all summer, and had missed him terribly. He helped lift her trunk onto the train, and then took her to where he'd saved their seats. Brady sat down in one of the seats, and Lily lay down on the rest of the seats in that row so that her head was in his lap, and he told her about his summer. As she lay there she listened to his deep voice, feeling it vibrate through his chest and just appreciated being with him. She still had no idea how she had managed to snag such an excellent boyfriend with her looks and social status, but they had being dating for a little over a year now.

"How was your summer then?" Brady asked after a while, playing with a stand of her hair.

"Oh you know, the usual," she replied vaguely.

"You cut your hair," he observed. "It's quite short now."

"Yes. I decided a change might be good," she replied, looking up and smiling at him.

He frowned and touched her eye. "Where'd you get this?"

She fingered her black eye tenderly, wincing slightly. "Soccer practice last week. Caught a ball to the face. I wasn't really paying close enough attention I guess." She laughed a little.

"Why do you play that Muggle sport if you always get hurt?" he asked. It was an on-going discussion they had quite often.

"Because it keeps me in shape over the summer," she responded, her smile disappearing. "I need some good exercise sometimes you know. I don't want to get fat."

He rolled his eyes but let it go for the time being, for which she was grateful. "I missed you a lot over the summer," he told her in a husky whisper as he leaned down to kiss her.

"I missed you too, Brady," she said, kissing him back. "More than you can possibly know."

"What do you say to doing a little catching up then?" he asked, pulling her into a sitting position on his lap.

She laughed. "Oh Brady."

"What? I'm being serious." He kissed the side of her neck, holding her hips. He brought his lips up to meet hers, and she returned his kiss eagerly. He pulled her tightly against him, crushing her breasts against his chest somewhat painfully.

"Right here on the train?" she asked hesitantly. The last time she had seen Brady was at the beginning of the summer. He had invited her over to his place, and they had ended up having sex. She hadn't been very sure about that, since it had been her first time, but she had done it for fear of him leaving her. She knew that she would probably continue to do it with him if he asked, for that same reason. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him.

"Why not? It's better that way," he told her seductively. "The rocking motion of the train is quite stimulating you know."

"What if someone walks in on us?"

"They won't. We'll lock the doors." He stuck out his lower lip. "Please Lily. I've missed you so much. I just want to be with you."

She finally gave in. "Okay, alright, but let's lock the doors right now."

Brady took out his wand and locked the compartment door and drew the shades on the window behind him. He was seventeen, which meant that he could now do magic outside of school, unlike her. He turned back to her, smiling, and slipped his hands up her shirt to undo the clasp of her bra. It came undone, and he tossed it aside.

Around an hour later, Brady left the compartment in search of the food trolley. Sex always made him hungry, he told her. She was putting her bra back on when there was a knock on the compartment door.

"Who is it?" she called, slipping into her Hogwarts skirt.

"James Potter," a voice called back from the other side. "I'm coming in."

Damn! "Umm, wait just a minute—"

But the door was already sliding open—Brady hadn't locked it again after he left. James Potter strode through the door to find Lily Evans in her black silk bra and Hogwarts skirt. He stopped dead in the doorway, and for a moment they both stood, frozen to the spot.

"Could you close the door or something?" Lily asked finally, blushing brightly and trying desperately to hide it. "I don't want the entire school to see me here."

"Oh," he said, and stepped inside the compartment, closing the door behind him. "Sorry to barge in like this, but we have a meeting in five minutes up at the front of the train."

She glared at him, then whirled around to locate her shirt. "You come in my compartment while I'm dressing to tell me that? Why couldn't you tell me from outside the door?"

He shrugged, and when she turned back around to face him he had an odd look on his face.

"What?" she demanded, feeling extremely self-conscious.

"Where'd you get all those bruises from?" he whispered, looking down her body to the discoloured splotches that marred her skin.

Automatically her heart sped up. "Soccer," she managed to say calmly. "It's a Muggle sport."

"I know what soccer is, Evans," he said. "I took Muggle-studies."

"Well then you know that it can be a very rough sport," she shot back. "You can get pretty beat up, lots of bruises and stuff. But it's fun, so I think it's worth it."

"That might explain the bruises," he answered, "but what about that gash on your shoulder? I doubt a soccer ball caused _that_."

"How is it any of your business?" she snapped irritably, pushing her arms into the sleeves of her blouse roughly. She busied herself with the buttons so she wouldn't have to look at him.

"It was just a question," he said, but Lily could tell that he was suspicious of something. Stupid Potter; he was too smart.

"Somehow I doubt that," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

At that moment Brady opened the compartment doors, his arms loaded down with sweets from the food trolley. He stopped at the sight of James Potter standing in the middle of the compartment.

"Hi sweetie," Lily said, fixing the collar on her blouse before tying her scarlet and gold tie around her neck. She walked over and kissed Brady's cheek. "There's a Head meeting shortly. I have to go."

"Oh," was all he said. He bent down and kissed her on the mouth. "See you then."

"Bye," she said, smiling sweetly at him. She turned back to James. "Come on then. We'd best be off or we'll be late."

They stepped out into the isle and she slid the compartment door shut behind them. They walked toward the front of the train in silence for a few feet, before James decided to break it. "He's using you, you know," he said casually.

"Oh? And what the hell do you know about Brady?" she snapped.

"I know that he's a Slytherin," he replied. "And Slytherins hate Gryffindors and vice versa. Don't you find it the least bit suspicious that he seems to pay such close attention to you?"

"What, I'm not good enough to be with him or something? Is that what you're trying to say? That he's too good for me, so he must be using me?"

"No! _You're_ too good for _him_. He's a Slytherin, Evans!" James said heatedly.

"So? Who cares? Besides you, that is," she snapped. "Brady and I are very happy together. You're just jealous."

"Yeah sure," he mumbled sarcastically. "And I'm also the Queen of England."

"You're fairly ugly for a queen," she responded, and he glared.

"Here I am just trying to be a good friend and protect you from having your heart broken and all you can do is poke fun at me," he said crossly, clearly loosing his patience.

"A good friend? Please. Potter, you and I are nothing even close to resembling friends," she replied. "You aren't trying to protect me. And if you are, don't. I don't need protection, especially from you. Brady loves me, and I love him. End of story."

"Whatever, Evans, whatever. But when he drops you don't come running to me crying your eyes out, because all I will say is 'I told you so.'"

"Why on earth would I ever come to you for anything anyway?"

"Forget it! You're impossible to talk to! It's no wonder you haven't got any friends!"

It was like a cruel slap in the face, and stung almost as much. She remained silent, hurt by his comment. One part of her knew that he really did mean well, even if he was way off base, but another part was furious with him for even suggesting that Brady was like that. What the hell did he know, anyway?

This was going to be a long year with James Potter being Head Boy, she already knew.


	3. Whisper

**Chapter 3 Whisper**

_I'm frightened by what I see_

_But somehow I know that there's much more to come_

_Immobilized by my fear_

_And soon to be blinded by tears_

_I can stop the pain if I will it all away_

**Whisper by Evanescence**

She much rather would have gone straight up to her new Head quarters instead of sitting and enduring the Sorting and the feast and whatnot, but she knew that as Head Girl she couldn't do that. She needed to make a good impression on the new first years; they looked up to her as a role model, along with the rest of the school. But she had a headache, and the Great Hall felt stuffy and hot. She just wanted to go to sleep.

"All right there, Evans?" Sirius Black asked as he and the rest of James's gang of friends known as the Marauders sat down all around her. "That's a right nasty bruise you've got there."

"Yes, thank you for the platitude, Black," she said crossly, rubbing her temples.

"The…what?" Sirius asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, would you like me to spell it out for you so you can look it up in the dictionary?"

"No thanks, that won't be necessary," Sirius responded, winking at a group of girls, who immediately burst into giggles. "I'll just ask my good friend Remus here; he's like my own personal dictionary. So Remus. What's a patitude?"

"It's _platitude_, Sirius," Remus replied, trying to hide his smile. "And go look it up yourself. I am _not_ your 'own personal dictionary.'"

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u**

Over an hour later all of the first years had been sorted, and food appeared on all of the tables. Lily's mouth watered at the sight, and her stomach growled in protest of not being fed since early that same morning. But instead of taking any food or pumpkin juice, she stepped away from the table and turned to leave.

"Where are you going, Evans?" James asked her, piling his plate high with a little bit of everything from the platters lining the table.

"I'm tired," she sighed. "I'm going up to bed."

"Shouldn't you eat first?"

"What are you, my mother?" she snapped, turning around and placing a hand on her hip. "I'm not hungry. I'm just really tired from the train ride, okay?"

"I bet you are," a seventh year Gryffindor girl named Monica said snidely, and the three other girls laughed and giggled.

Lily whirled to face them. "And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Oh I think you know what it's supposed to mean," Monica replied in an overly sweet voice. "You're supposed be really smart, right? So figure it out."

The redhead glared down at the girls. "Listen here, _ladies_," she spat, "I am _not_ going to put up with any of your shit this year. Understand?"

Monica—who was the ringleader of this band of girls—simply raised her eyebrows, and the other girls continued to giggle, mocking her. Lily's face turned a red that rivalled her hair colour and she spun around and left the Great Hall, fuming. But instead of going up to her new dormitory she headed to the kitchens instead. She tickled the pear, and entered. Her mouth watered with the sensuous smells that flooded her nostrils.

"Oh hello Miss Lily," a house elf near the door squeaked happily. All of the house elves knew her.

"Hello Gertrude," the girl replied, smiling. "I was wondering…"

In an instant the elves crowded her, offering her platters of food and goblets of pumpkin juice. She laughed and sat down in a chair offered to her by Gertrude, and started on her own feast. She devoured everything the house elves brought her until she felt as if she were about to burst. She thanked them graciously for their hospitality and then set off finally for the Head common room.

She came upon a portrait of a unicorn grazing in a field full of exotic purple flowers while the moon shone down on the scene and the stars sparkled brightly in the black sky. It was a gorgeous picture, and she would have no problems remembering that this was the one to get into her new rooms. The unicorn looked up and saw her. "Password?" it asked.

"Right. Umm, oh what was it?" She cursed under her breath and tried desperately to remember the password Professor Dumbledore had told her. She was feeling a little panicked because she knew she needed to get rid of the poison sitting in her stomach. "Oh, that's right. Hemlock."

The portrait swung open for her. She entered the room and her jaw nearly dropped. The common room was as big as the Gryffindor common room, with two couches and several big armchairs. In the fireplace a fire was crackling merrily, making the large room warm and inviting. Off to the left side of the room was a stone staircase that led up to a door that had "Head Boy" stylishly painted in gold letters on it, and on the right was another set of stairs that led up to her dormitory. She headed over to the right side, excitement bubbling up in her with every step.

When she opened the door that claimed the dorm as hers she was once again shocked. Her dormitory was also as big as the girls' dorms in Gryffindor Tower, but instead of five beds, there was only one off to one side. It was a king-sized bed with scarlet coloured sheets and a big, fluffy-looking gold duvet. The pillows were encased in either scarlet or gold silk cases. On the opposite side of the room from the bed was another door. Opening it, she discovered a large bathroom with a huge bathtub and a separate shower. There was yet another door leading out of the bathroom, and when she opened it she discovered that it led directly to James's dorm room. So they shared a bathroom. Great.

"Well at least the doors lock," she said aloud, returning to the bathroom and closing both doors. Then she locked the one that led into James's room and sank down in front of the toilet. She lifted the seat and proceeded to empty her stomach's contents into the stool.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door.

"Evans? Are you okay in there?"

Shit! She hadn't even heard James come in. It sounded as if he was standing on the other side of his door, but thankfully she had thought to lock it.

"Yes," she cried hoarsely. "I'm perfectly—" But then she was vomiting again, not of her own free will, either. Her body just did it of its own accord. She sat there on the floor, hopelessly leaning over the toilet until her stomach was finally empty.

"Are you sick?" James asked worriedly from the other side. "Do you want me to come in there and help you or something?"

"No!" she said quickly. "It's okay, really. I'm fine now!"

She stood up weakly, wiping her mouth with a bit of toilet paper. She washed her shaking hands and rinsed out her mouth, then flushed the toilet.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Potter, really," she replied. "I'm just going to clean up a bit and then I'm going to go to bed. It must have been what I ate or something."

"But you didn't eat dinner," he pointed out. Clearly he was not going to let this drop.

"No, but I ate lunch on the train," she lied. "And breakfast. I had leftover tuna casserole before I left this morning. That must be what it was. But I'm okay now. Really. Don't worry."

"If you're sure…"

"I am."

"Okay. But if you need anything, I'm right here for you, no matter what time of the night, all right? Don't worry about waking me up or anything."

She couldn't help but smile a little. Maybe he really _was_ just trying to be a good person. She shook her head. "Whatever, Potter. I'm sure I won't need anything," she said a bit more harshly than she intended. She added sincerely, "But thank you."

There was a pause, and she crossed the room to the door leading into her room. She had just opened it when he called out again. "Seriously, Evans. If you ever need me for anything, even if you just want to talk or something, I'm here for you, okay?"

She had no idea what to say to that, so instead she crossed the room again and unlocked his door. He opened it and came face to face with a pale, shaky redheaded girl whose eyes shone with what he thought looked almost like fear.

"I'm sorry for what I said today on the train," he told her. "About you not having any friends. It was mean."

"It was true," she said miserably, looking down at the floor. She hated to admit it, but it was no use lying about it, either. "But don't think that this suddenly means we're best friends or anything, okay? Because it doesn't, and we aren't."

"I know," he said, shrugging. "But that doesn't mean that we can at least try and get to know each other a little better."

_Yes it does_, she wanted to say. _You don't _want_ to know me_. Instead she just said coolly, "I guess we can be civil this year."

Once again he shrugged. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight." She turned around and went through the door on the opposite side, closing it behind her. She fell into the bed and curled up underneath the gold duvet. That had been close. She'd have to be more careful if she didn't want to be caught. And if there was one person in the whole world she didn't want to know about her, it was James. Her life was really screwed up. His was perfect. He wouldn't be able to understand.

No one could understand, not Dean, not Karen, not Petunia…not even Brady. But especially not James Potter.


	4. Haters

**Chapter 4 Haters**

_You look so clean but you spread your dirt_

_As if you think that words don't hurt_

_You build up walls no one can climb_

_The things you do should be a crime_

_You're the queen of superficiality_

**Haters by Hilary Duff**

The next morning Lily awoke early as usual. And as usual, she stayed curled up in bed staring at the ceiling. Last night had been the first night in three months that she hadn't been beaten up. She smiled, knowing that at least for the next few months her bruises would have time to heal, her body would recover, and she would slip into a new routine. But then the issue of Winter Break crossed her mind. Where would she be going? Home to Dean and his fists, or to Karen and her constant comparisons of Lily to Petunia? Both options sucked, but she was actually considering mostly just going home to Dean. At least he paid attention to her, and he never ever compared her to her sister. He didn't lecture her on her supposed immaturity.

"Don't worry so much about Christmas," she said aloud. "That's almost four months away. Enjoy what you have now, and worry about that when it gets closer."

Properly cheered up (for the time being, anyway), she rolled out of bed and slipped into the bathroom again. Once again she locked James's door, and then she slipped out of her uniform—she hadn't changed before falling into bed—and started the water for a hot shower. When she finally stepped out of the shower the bathroom was crowded with steam, and once again her skin was a bright pink colour. The mirror was fogged up, so she didn't bother with it. She took out her wand and dried her hair with it, then scooped up the pile of clothing she'd left in the middle of the floor and went back into her room. Once there she slid into a clean uniform, combed out her hair, and got ready for the new school day.

Ordinarily she didn't wear much make up, but today she decided on a bit of mascara and a layer of foundation that made the bruise around her eye less noticeable. She also dusted a fine layer of sparkly glitter across each eyelid and brushed her lips with a strawberry gloss.

_Not bad_, she decided while admiring the effect the little bit of make up had on her face. Once again she was in the bathroom, which was probably her favourite part of the whole living quarters. She glanced to the toilet; it seemed to be calling her name. She held up her left hand; the middle finger was cherry-red from sticking it down her throat so often. _I think I'll skip breakfast today. And lunch, too. That way I won't have to throw up and my finger can get a break. I should probably do that more often, or else someone might see my finger and get suspicious._

And knowing her luck James would be the one to find out first.

By the time her double lesson of Transfiguration that afternoon Lily was shaking and weak from the lack of food. She hadn't eaten since the night before, and since she had thrown all of the food back up she hadn't gotten any of the nutrients from it. She might as well have not eaten at all since the previous morning at breakfast.

_Actually, I threw that up, too_. She had no idea when the last time she had eaten anything that she didn't puke up later. But this was her last lesson for the day; then she could sneak down to the kitchens while everyone else was eating dinner, scarf down everything the elves fed her, and then quickly throw up before James got back. She already had a plan formulated in her head. Just thinking about the food that would be awaiting her soon made her mouth water so that it was hard to concentrate on McGonagall's lecture.

"_Psst_." The redhead turned around to see Monica sitting directly behind her and whirled back around, trying to ignore the brunette girl. "Hey Evans," Monica whispered.

"What do you want?" Lily whispered harshly back. "I'm trying to learn here!"

"Miss Evans, Miss Reed, is there something that you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" Professor McGonagall demanded, glaring at the two girls.

"No, Professor," Monica replied sweetly. "Sorry to interrupt you."

McGonagall continued to glare at them for a moment longer before returning to her lecture on proper techniques for turning humans into non-living objects.

"_Psst_, Evans."

"What do you _want_?" the redhead repeated, annoyed.

"I think I know how you _really_ got that bruised eye of yours," Monica whispered cruelly.

"Here we go," the other girl muttered under her breath, still attempting to ignore the pest behind her.

"See, I don't think it was actually a soccer ball," Monica continued. "I was thinking more along the lines of someone's fist."

Lily knew her face was going red with shame and anger both. "Shut up, Reed, before I show you what a fist can do to your face."

"Well you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" the brunette whispered nastily. The girl sitting beside Monica, a blonde girl called Genevieve, giggled. "A have a theory about you, Evans. Do you want to hear it?"

"Not particularly, no," the redhead snapped irritably.

"That's too bad. Then I'll just tell Genevieve here my theory. I know _she's_ eager to hear it, aren't you Genie?"

"Oh, most definitely, Monica," the blonde whispered back, giggling behind her hand again.

"I knew you would. So here's what I think _really_ happened to Evans' face. I think she had her little boyfriend beat her up so she'd come back to school this year and everyone would feel sorry for her. She'd get loads more attention, people might actually like her, and for once in her miserable life she might actually have some friends."

"I think you hit the nail on the head with your theory, Monica," Genevieve said, nodding seriously.

"You had both better shut your mouths before _I_ put a nail in _your_ heads," Lily hissed in warning.

"A bit testy today, aren't we?" The girls sniggered. "That must be because I really was right about you, Evans. How pathetic. You can't make friends the normal way so you have to turn yourself into a pity case just so someone might pay attention to you. I never realized how desperate you really were."

"What's wrong, Evans?" Genevieve asked nastily. "Don't your parents give you enough attention at home? Or do they hate you too?"

"I'm warning you," the redhead shot back.

"Do you hear that, Monica? She's _warning_ us!"

"Shut up!"

"Ladies, is there a problem over there?" McGonagall asked loudly. Everyone in the classroom was looking at the three girls now, and Lily sunk down in her seat.

"Not at all, Professor," Genevieve said. "Evans here was just explaining to us the proper wand movements for complex Transfiguration spells, such as the one you're talking about."

"The next time you interrupt my class you will all have detention, understood?" McGonagall said sternly. "When you have a question, ask me, not Miss Evans. I am the teacher of this class, and it is extremely rude to interrupt me when I'm trying to teach your fellow classmates!"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," the three girls replied together.

Thankfully McGonagall's threat kept Monica and Genevieve from bothering Lily again for the rest of the class, but as soon as they were in the hallways the girls started up again, and this time they had reinforcements: Nicole and Kristi, the other two seventh year girls.

"You never answered my question, Evans," Genevieve said as the class filed out into the hallway. "Don't your parents love you?"

"Shut up." Her jaw ached from clenching it so hard, but she couldn't seem to stop.

"I bet they don't," Kristi chimed in. "Not even a mother could love _that_ face."

The other girls burst into wicked laughter, and Lily whirled around to face them so quickly that they nearly ran into her. All around them the hallways were bustling with people hurrying down to dinner.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" Lily screamed, finally losing her patience.

"Ooh, I think we hit a nerve ladies," Monica said, and began laughing. The other girls joined in, until it was a chorus of cruel laughter that echoed through Lily's head. She was shaking really hard now, partly from hunger and partly from anger.

"I swear to God," she hissed, her voice cracking, "if you don't shut your goddamn mouths right now I'm going to—"

"Going to what, Evans? Give us detention?" More laughter.

She knew that she couldn't hold back much longer. She turned back around and headed in the opposite direction from the pack of girls.

"That's right, Evans! Run away, you coward!"

_Just ignore them. IGNORE THEM_, she told herself, trying desperately to shut out their cruel laughter, but it seemed to be following her no matter where she went. Suddenly she crashed into someone and her book bag went flying, scattering its contents all over the hallway. Her inkbottle exploded, splattering ink all over her books and parchment. She hurried to collect her supplies, trying not to burst into tears right there. She couldn't give those evil girls the satisfaction of seeing her cry; they would never let her live it down.

Shoving everything into her bag she jumped up and ran down a deserted corridor, praying that no one would see and follow her. She hid behind a suit of armour until she was sure everyone had gone down to dinner; then she doubled back and went back to the Head common room and up to her dorm, where she dropped her book bag on the floor by the door and fell into the bed, gulping down oxygen to keep from crying. Eventually she fell into a fitful sleep.

She dreamt that she was back at her house, and her father was beating her again. Her mom stood off to the side and simply watched, shaking her head and saying, "Why couldn't you be more like Petunia?" Monica, Genevieve, Nicole and Kristi were there, too, watching as her father's fist pounded into every bit of her he could reach, and laughed.

She woke with a start to find her pillow and face wet with tears. Finally she could hold them back no longer; she curled up into a little ball and sobbed, huge gulping sobs that made her ribs ache. Hearing a knock at her door, she quickly choked off her sobs.

"What do you want?" she cried hoarsely, glaring at the door as if it had been the one to disturb her.

"I didn't see you at dinner, or breakfast, or lunch," James's voice called through the wood. "I was worried, so I brought you something to eat. Can I come in?"

"No. Well, hang on then. Give me a minute to get cleaned up." She rolled out of bed and jogged into the bathroom where she washed away the rivers of black mascara staining her cheeks and combed her hair into a ponytail. Not perfect, but then again she didn't honestly care what he thought of her anyway. She noticed that her skirt, blouse and tie had speckles of ink on them, but she didn't have time to change out of them.

Pulling open the door her nose was greeted with a platter full of roast chicken, peas, carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy and to wash it all down, there was a goblet of pumpkin juice. She took the platter and goblet and stepped aside, allowing James entrance to her room.

"So," he said as she sat down on her bed to eat her dinner.

She looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Well, thanks for bringing me dinner. I guess I fell asleep."

He shrugged. "Like I said, I was worried about you. I didn't see you at breakfast or at lunch, either, and you didn't eat last night, so I figured you'd be starving."

"I overslept this morning," she said casually, mixing up her gravy and potatoes. "And I went to the library for lunch so I could work on my Charms essay. I don't want to get behind already, so I figured I'd get a head start."

Again he simply shrugged, and they fell into silence. The only sound made was the fork scraping against the platter as she finished eating.

Finally James couldn't stand it anymore. "Look Evans, I'm just going to come right out and say this. I'm worried about you, like seriously worried."

She chose to remain silent, trying to figure out a way she could possibly get out of this.

"I know you probably think that I'm only being nice to you out of sympathy, either that or that I want you to date me," James pressed on, "but that's not it at all. I'm sick of always fighting with you over stupid stuff like we always used to. It's like Professor Dumbledore always says, 'It's times like these where you need to make more friends and less enemies.' I'm just trying to be your friend."

"Who says that I _want_ you as a friend?"

He frowned. "I'm only trying to be nice to you," he said softly. "You don't have to be such a bitch about it."

She sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I snapped, but I've just had a really terrible day, okay? I just kind of want to be left alone for a while, to think things through."

"Okay." He turned to leave, but stopped at the door. "For the record, I think Monica was right about you not getting that bruise from a soccer ball."

"For the record, Monica's a self-absorbed bitch who's hated me since she first saw me," Lily shot back. "She's just trying to ruin my life, and it seems to be working right now."

"I also know for a fact that you didn't oversleep this morning."

"Oh yeah?" she asked snidely. Maybe he would get the hint and leave if she was mean.

"Yeah." He opened the door and stepped outside, then added over his shoulder, "I heard the shower at 4:30 this morning," and then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Damn him! Why was he always so…right?


	5. My Happy Ending

**Chapter 5 My Happy Ending**

_Held up so high on such a breakable thread_

_You were all the things I thought I knew_

_And I thought we could be_

_You were everything, everything that I wanted_

_We weren't mean to be, supposed to be_

_But we lost it_

…_All this time you were pretending_

_So much for my happy ending_

**My Happy Ending by Avril Lavigne**

Lily knew that James would be watching to see if she came to breakfast. She also knew that Monica and her gang would also be watching for her to come. She knew that she would have to sit there and tolerate their cruel laughter while she ate that…_poison_, and then the girls would follow her to Arithmancy so that she would have no opportunity to throw up. She should just eat in the kitchens, where no one would be there to annoy her or make sure that she ate. That would be the smartest thing to do. She would be able to eat and eat and eat without people staring at her strangely, and then afterwards she would be able to throw up in peace.

"I probably shouldn't eat at all, actually," she whispered to herself and she lay in her bed staring at the ceiling. _That_, in fact, was probably the smartest option she had. Screw James Potter and his concern. There was nothing to be concerned about; after all, she was away from the man who beat her, and the woman who made her feel like dirt. This was her final year at Hogwarts, and she was Head Girl. She would soon be considered an adult in the wizarding world at least.

Suddenly things didn't seem so bad. _Who cares about those stupid girls anyway?_ she thought. They meant nothing to her; let them assume whatever they wanted, because that's all it was. Assumptions. She didn't care what they thought of her, didn't care what anyone thought, as a matter of fact. _Let everyone think what they will_, she thought, feeling strong and in control of her life for the first time in years. She had Brady, and that's all that mattered.

u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n 

Once again she skipped both breakfast and lunch, and she discovered that she had the rest of the afternoon off. Her schedule was relatively light this year, despite what she thought it would be. Every Tuesday she only had two classes, Arithmancy in the morning and Ancient Runes after that, and then she had the rest of the afternoon free. For part of the afternoon she stayed in the library, working on homework assignments given to her the previous day. After she'd finished that she simply roamed around the shelves of books, pleased to be back. The library was one of her favourite places to be, because through books she was able to escape the real world and delve into any number of subjects, fiction or truth, it didn't matter. Books took her mind away from her own life, and coming to the library always felt like a vacation where she could get away from her problems.

When her eyes grew tired she went back up to her dorm and changed out of her school uniform into some workout clothes and went for a run around the lake. She ran until her leg muscles cramped and her chest screamed for oxygen, and then she pushed on a little more until she saw black spots in front of her eyes that threatened to swallow away her vision. Then she stopped under the shade of a willow tree, bent double with her hands on her knees, trying to steady her breathing. She coughed and felt something wet and sticky spray from her lips. Thinking it was only saliva she reached up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand; when she withdrew her hand she saw that it was covered in bright red blood, shiny and thick.

Alarmed, she ran back to the castle, flew up the many staircases and didn't stop until she reached the portrait of the unicorn grazing under the moon with the purple flowers. "Hemlock," she gasped, clutching at a stitch in her side with her un-bloody hand.

When the portrait swung open she hurried through it and rushed up to the bathroom. What she saw in the mirror scared her further. The front of her baggy white T-shirt was splattered with blood, and her lips and chin were covered in it as well. She quickly turned on the faucet and began splashing her face with cold water. She scrubbed the blood off her hands and face, frantic to get it off, but the blood appeared to be staining her face. Quickly she shed her clothes and took a hot shower, viciously scrubbing her face until it hurt. She was in such a state of panic that she didn't realize the tears coursing down her cheeks.

_What have I done_? she kept thinking over and over again. _What have I done? What have I _done

Finally she began to calm down enough to realize that all of the scrubbing was making her face and hands raw, and that was why they were pink. It wasn't the blood anymore; it was _her_. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping her body in a fluffy gold-coloured towel. Then she dried her hair, changed back into her uniform and went down to dinner.

Scanning the Great Hall closely as she walked in, she noticed James, Sirius and Remus talking in hushed tones at the Gryffindor table. At the very end of the table were Monica, Genevieve, Nicole and Kristi, flirting with some sixth year Gryffindor boys. Lily chose to sit as far away from them as she possibly could, ending up sitting by herself at the opposite end of the table. She eyed the food around her and found none of it very enticing. However out of the corner of her eye she could see James monitoring her behaviour, and so she chose some things at random to set on her plate. She ate slowly, not even tasting the food she put in her mouth. All she could think about was the sabotage she was committing by eating this food, this fat-filled food. But she knew that she was too scared to throw up later; after the incident with the blood she wasn't sure what could happen.

After dinner someone grabbed her arm as she was filing out of the Great Hall with the other students. She turned, expecting it to be James or Monica and her gang coming to torture her some more, but instead it was Brady.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, pulling her off to the side. He grinned at her, and she hugged him tightly.

"Oh Brady! It feels like I haven't seen you in ages!" she told him, burying her face in his chest. "I've been having the week from hell. You don't even know. It's been _awful_."

He nodded. "You didn't seem very happy at dinner. I wanted to come talk to you, but I thought your bodyguard might freak out and hex me or something."

"My bodyguard?" Then it clicked. "Oh, you mean James. Just ignore him. He's not my bodyguard, he's just…well, he's just Potter."

Again Brady nodded. "Hey, what do you say we hang out tonight? Like in your new dormitory? We can catch up, and you can tell me everything that's been going on."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Brady, but I don't think so. Not tonight, anyway. I have a lot of homework," she lied. "And I'm really tired." Of course she didn't have a lot of homework, since she had done it all this afternoon, but she knew that if Brady came up to her room they would end up having sex again, and she really didn't feel like it.

"Oh." He sounded disappointed, and she instantly felt guilty. "Well okay then…I guess we can hang out some other time. If you've got a lot of homework I don't want to keep you from it."

"I'm really sorry."

"No, don't be," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "It's fine, really. No need to worry your pretty little redhead about it, okay? It's all good."

"Thanks for understanding, Brady."

He kissed her quickly and then headed off with the rest of the Slytherins as they went to the dungeons. She sighed and headed in the opposite direction. Then she stopped and made up her mind.

"Brady, wait!" she called, and ran after him. She caught him at the top of the stairs leading down to the dungeons. "I changed my mind. Homework can wait, at least for another night. I'd love to hang out with you."

He broke into a grin and pulled her into a hug, dancing in a little circle while she giggled happily. It was seriously the first time she had genuinely smiled in a long time. She loved it when Brady was happy, and it was contagious. Being with him always made her feel happy; she felt beautiful and wanted, both of which were things she rarely seemed to feel anymore.

They went up to the Head common room and up to her dormitory. She took a seat on the edge of her bed, and he joined her there.

"So tell me what's been going on," he said gently, placing a hand on her knee.

She shook her head, wondering where to begin. "I don't even know where to start!"

"Start from the beginning, and take it from there," Brady suggested.

"It's mostly these _awful_ girls," she said, gritting her teeth at the thought of what they had done to her yesterday afternoon. "Monica, Genevieve, Nicole and Kristi. God, they're terrible, Brady! They absolutely _loathe_ me, and I haven't got a clue why! I haven't done a thing to them, but they continue to torture me. I don't understand it."

"Just ignore them."

"I've tried that! It doesn't work. They just follow me wherever I go."

"You shouldn't let them get to you. They're just cruel little girls. I'm actually surprised you're letting them get to you so much."

She hung her head shamefully. He took her chin in his fingers and lifted her face so that they were eye to eye. "Hey, don't worry about it, sweetheart. They're just trying to get to you; if you don't give them a reaction they'll stop bugging you."

"Thanks, Brady," she whispered gratefully. "You always make me feel better."

"It's what I'm here for." He kissed her, gently at first, but then more roughly. His tongue pushed its way into her mouth as he simultaneously pushed her back on the bed.

She really wasn't in the mood for this, but she didn't want to say no, either, so she went along with it as she always did.

A few hours later Brady was kissing her goodbye at the bottom of the stairs leading up to her room. Part of her was actually glad to see him go; she was exhausted and ready to fall into bed, alone. But at the same time another part of her didn't want him to leave; she wanted him to stay with her forever so she could forget everything for a few more hours.

Brady turned to leave, but stopped and turned back. "Hey Lily?"

"Hmm?"

He shifted his feet uncertainly. "I meant to tell you earlier, before we—yeah. Umm…well, it's been fun, but I think we need to start seeing other people."

For a moment all she could do was stare at him in open-mouthed shock. "A-are you breaking up with me?"

"Well…yeah, actually. It's just there are some rumours floating around the school that you've become a bit of a slut, and I really can't associate myself with you anymore. It could ruin my reputation. You understand, right?"

Once again, she simply stood there in a state of utter shock. "But…but you know that's not true! I—I don't know what to say! You know it's not true!"

"I know," he said awkwardly, "but other people don't know that. It would ruin my rep to be seen with you, so I think it's time to let go. I know you understand."

"No, I don't understand Brady!" she cried, feeling helpless. "I thought you loved me."

He took a few steps backward, holding his hands in the air, as if surrendering or something. "Whoa there. I never said anything about love! I think it's time I leave now."

"Brady, wait. Please don't leave me!" She ran after him, grabbing onto his arm. She looked into his eyes. "I love you, Brady. Please say it back. I need to hear you say that you love me, too."

He averted his gaze. "I'm sorry, Lily, really I am. But I don't love you."

Her eyes blazed, turning sadness and shock into rage. "So, what? You come up here and have sex with me, and then tell me you don't love me and want to break up? Were you just planning to shag and leave?"

"You know that's not true…"

"I don't know what's true anymore!" She felt tears behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She felt like such a _fool_ for playing right into his trap, for letting him use her and then throw her away as if she had meant nothing at all.

"Look. I'm really sorry it has to be like this, all right?" he said, but he didn't sound sorry at all.

"Shut up," she snapped. "You're not sorry. You've been using me the whole time! You just went out with me because you thought I was easy, didn't you?"

"I can't believe you're being so immature about this—"

Her eyes grew huge, and she couldn't seem to hear the rest of what he was saying. He was still talking, that much she knew, but she couldn't focus on Brady. All she could see was her mom's face, yelling at her for being immature and silly.

"Get out," Lily interrupted, shaking with anger.

"What?" Brady said, as if he too were in shock. "_You're_ kicking _me_ out? I'm the one breaking up with you! You can't—"

"I SAID GET OUT!" she screamed furiously, pushing him toward the door. Before she knew what was happening Brady had whirled around and his fist connected with the side of her face. She stumbled back and fell, holding her face in surprise.

"No one," he said dangerously, his eyes flashing angrily, "tells Brady Johnson what to do. And you'd do well to remember that, you stupid, worthless bitch. You are _nothing_, just a worthless Mudblood. I should have dumped you a long time ago."

And then he was gone, storming through the portrait whole, leaving her sitting in the middle of the common room, crying quietly to herself.


	6. Nobody's Home

**Chapter 6 Nobody's Home**

_I couldn't help her _

_I just watched her make the same mistakes again_

… _She wants to get well but nobody's home_

_It's where she lies, broken inside_

_There's no place to go, no place to go_

_To dry her eyes, broken inside_

_Her feelings she hides, her dreams she can't find_

_She's losing her mind _

_She's falling behind_

_She can't find her place_

_She's losing her faith_

_She's fallen from grace_

_She's all over the place_

**Nobody's Home by Avril Lavigne**

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter Pettigrew came staggering into the Head's common room, laughing loudly and falling all over themselves.

"Did you see the look on poor old Snape's face?" Sirius guffawed, which led the boys into another fit of hysterics.

"Shhh," James said through his laughter, his finger on his lips. "Evans is probably sleeping—"

He stopped short, and the three other boys ran straight into him. Remus peered over his shoulder, and suddenly all of the boys were silent.

"Or not," Sirius said softly.

Lily was not sleeping. In fact, she was still sitting in the place Brady had left her, still crying and holding her face where he'd punched her. It was not just the fact that Brady had used her, but it was how he had acted and what he had said that upset her the most. It was as if he had become a sort of combination of her mother Karen and her father Dean. He called her immature, and then later called her a worthless bitch—which happened to be her father's favourite phrase to describe her. And the punch had just added to the illusion. She had been sitting in the same place for over an hour, stuck in a sort of catatonic state, lost in thoughts. When she saw the Marauders, however, she seemed to snap out of it. She quickly wiped her face and stood, consciously aware of the fact that all she was wearing was an over-sized baggy white T-shirt. She tried not to meet any of their eyes.

For a long time the five of them stayed like that, with the four boys staring at her while she stared at her toes.

Finally Sirius cleared his throat. "All right there, Evans?" he asked.

She didn't respond, just shrugged and wiped her eyes again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" James asked.

Again she shrugged. "What's there to talk about?" she asked so quietly the boys had to lean forward a little to hear her.

"I don't know," James replied. "Whatever happened to make you—I don't know." At a loss for words, he shut up.

"There's nothing to talk about," she said in the same soft voice. "You were right, that's all. As usual."

The four boys glanced around at each other, unsure of what to say.

"Are you…okay?" James asked.

She snorted, her voice growing louder. "Does it really _look_ like I'm okay, Potter? I'm sitting in the middle of the common room in nothing but a T-shirt crying. Do you really think I'm okay?"

It was his turn to shrug. "I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

"Well, I'm fine," she snapped. "Just forget this ever happened."

She turned on her heel and started toward the stone staircase leading up to her room, but James stepped forward and grabbed her arm gently. She flinched and turned her face, almost as if she were expecting to be hit.

"Hey," he whispered, turning her around to face him. She refused to look him in the eyes. "Look, I dunno what happened, but I _do_ know that you're obviously not okay. Are you sure you don't want to talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about," she repeated. "Brady was using me. You were right. There. I said it. Are you happy now? You were right. Let's throw a bloody parade for you so you can tell the whole world that you were right and Lily Evans was wrong."

"I'm sorry," he said, and unlike Brady, he actually _sounded_ sorry. She refused to acknowledge this fact, however.

"Well, go on. Say it then."

"Say what?"

"Don't play dumb, Potter. You know what I'm talking about. That day on the train when you tried to tell me and I wouldn't listen, you said, and I quote, 'When he drops you don't come running to me crying your eyes out because all I will say is I told you so.' So say it."

He shook his head. "I'm not going to say it. Besides, technically you didn't come running to me at all, crying your eyes out or otherwise. We just sort of ran into each other."

"Whatever, Potter." She yanked her arm out of his grip and turned away again.

"You don't need him, you know," James told her as she stepped on the staircase. "You're a lot better than he is, and he never deserved you in the first place. You could do so much better."

She turned back around and glared at him, and James realized that this was the first time all night he'd seen her eyes; they flashed angrily. "I don't need your motivational speeches, Potter! I'm perfectly fine, so just drop it already."

"I'm only trying to make you feel better," he said quietly. "I'm worried about you, Evans."

Her face turned bright red and she stepped down of the stairs and came to stand right in front of him. "Why the hell are you so worried about me? Hmm? I'm fine! Why can't you just leave me alone for once?"

"You aren't eating. You were throwing up the other night. Your body is covered in bruises, not to mention that cut on your shoulder—"

"Shut up!" she shouted. "I don't need your pity!"

"I'm not pitying you, Evans, I just want to help you if you'll let me—"

"Stop it!" she cried, glowering up into his face. "I don't need you to save me, Potter! I don't _need_ help! I'M FINE! What part of that don't you understand? I don't need you to save me!"

Without waiting for James or any of the other boys to say anything else, she turned and stormed up to her room, slamming the door behind her.

"She's obviously _not_ fine," Sirius said after a moment of silence. James turned back around to face his friends.

"I don't know what's wrong with her," he told them. "But I know it's not good. And I really am concerned. I know I'm not the only one with suspicions about those bruises. Why won't anyone else do anything about it?"

Remus shrugged his shoulders. "They don't have proof of anything," he said simply. "And neither do you, Prongs. Pressing her about it isn't going to help, either. Eventually she'll come around and tell you. But then again, she might not. But for now I think you need to back off a little bit, give her some time to think about everything."

"But what if she—does something, Moony?"

"She won't. At least I hope not."

"That's not very reassuring," James said crossly, slumping down into one of the chairs with a frown.

Up in the bathroom Lily stripped off her shirt and stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing her body. She could see her ribs, could almost _count_ her ribs. So why did Brady dump her then? Obviously she wasn't nearly skinny enough. She decided that she couldn't possibly eat for a week. Paired with extensive exercise, she might be able to lose enough weight that Brady would reconsider his decision and beg for her forgiveness. Then they would get back together, and everything would be fine. She glanced at the toilet, and thought about the dinner she'd eaten that night. She had probably gotten rid of most of those calories with the sex she'd had with Brady, and besides that, it was too risky to throw up with James just downstairs in the common room with the other boys.

She went back into her room, threw on her exercising clothes, and started doing push-ups, crunches and various other exercises that she prayed would help her burn calories. When her muscles got sore she continued to push herself, not stopping until she once again saw the little black spots at the corners of her eyes. At last she sank into the welcome softness of her bed and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

The next two months saw Lily into a new routine: skip breakfast and lunch, eat a full dinner and throw up afterwards. She would stay up late into the night exercising in her room, and then wake up early the next morning and shower. She used Tuesday afternoons and the times the others spent eating breakfast and lunch to complete her homework assignments so that she had more time to exercise. She weighed herself on a daily basis, recording every ounce gained or lost in a journal she kept under her pillow. She avoided James and the group of girls that she had come to call The Haters—Monica, Genevieve, Kristi and Nicole.

She fell easily into this new routine, welcoming the benefits she found when she weighed; she was losing a considerable amount of weight. By the time December had rolled around she had lost nearly 20 pounds. But unfortunately, Brady appeared to be sticking with his decision, completely ignoring her in the hallways and in classes. After a while, however, she discovered that she didn't really care anymore about Brady. All she cared about was becoming less disgusting.

It wasn't until it was almost too late that she realized that she hadn't come to a decision on where she was going for Christmas, and it was one of her least favourite people who chose to remind her of this little fact.

"So Evans," James Potter said, taking the seat across from her in the library on the Friday afternoon before Winter Break, "are you going home for Christmas?"

"What do _you_ care?" she asked rudely. "I don't see how it's any of your business, but then again, you always seem to be sticking your nose into things that shouldn't concern you. I don't know why I'm surprised."

He shrugged. "I'm just trying to make conversation, that's all," he said, ignoring her tone of voice. "Personally I'll be glad for the break from school. I'm going home."

"Well, good for you," she snapped, returning to her Ancient Runes book, hoping he would leave her alone. Inside she was panicking. The train left tomorrow, and she still hadn't managed to come up with a plan yet.

"Well, what about you? Aren't you glad for the holidays?" he pressed. "Don't you want to go home to your family?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"It's nothing that you could possibly understand, Potter," she said without looking up from her book. She scrawled something on the parchment in front of her. "Shouldn't you be at lunch?"

"Shouldn't you?" he shot back.

She glared over the top of her book. "I'm not hungry."

"Well, neither am I," he countered, smirking.

"You're really infuriating, Potter. Do you know that?"

He shrugged. "I've been told a time or two."

"For someone who's trying to make friends rather than enemies, you sure are doing a horrible job, at least with me."

"You're really the only one I have to worry about now," he said. "Everyone else in the school pretty much worships me as a Quidditch hero and handsome, suave—"

"I highly doubt the Slytherins think any such things about you."

"Yes, well at least my own housemates like me," he shot back without thinking.

Her eyes narrowed even further, and she slammed her book shut. "I don't need this from you," she snapped. "I don't _need_ to be liked by everyone in the entire school. Unlike you, Potter, I don't need the approval of my peers to be confident in myself. _I_ know who I am, and I certainly don't need anyone else to tell me that."

"Ooh, those are fighting words, Evans." He smiled—actually _smiled_—at her from across the tables.

"There are a lot more where those came from, too. I suggest you leave me alone before I _really_ start to get angry."

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of movement, and automatically threw her hands up protectively. When the expected blow didn't come she glanced up to see that James had simply snatched up her Ancient Runes essay. He was staring strangely at her, and she forced herself to slowly lower her arms from in front of her face.

_She acts just like an abused animal,_ James thought, but refrained from saying anything about it aloud. Instead he simply shook his head and set her essay back down on the table, pushing his chair back simultaneously. "Well, wherever you go, I hope you have a good holiday, Evans," he said cheerfully. Then he was gone.

"Thanks," Lily whispered after him, "you too."


	7. Perfect

**Chapter 7 Perfect**

_I'm never gunna be good enough for you_

_I can't pretend that I'm all right_

_And you can't change me_

'_Cuz we lost it all_

_Nothing lasts forever_

_I'm sorry I can't be perfect_

_Now it's just too late_

_And we can't go back_

_I'm sorry I can't be perfect_

**Perfect by Simple Plan**

In the end, Lily decided to go home to her father Dean's house. After all, she didn't think that she would have a very enjoyable Christmas at her mother's new house with her new boyfriend. She would be ignored, or compared to her sister. Her mother had a way of making her feel like a failure at life in general; whether or not Karen did this on purpose was a mystery. But still. At least her father would pay attention to her, even if it were only long enough to smack her around. Either option sucked, yes, but it was better than spending Christmas alone, which was something she didn't think she'd be able to handle.

So she packed her trunk with her winter clothing, bundled up and headed out to Hogsmead station with the greater majority of the Hogwarts population. It had started to snow, little white feathers falling from the sky to land all around her. She had always loved the snow ever since she was a little girl. Back then she and her sister Petunia would stay outside all day making snowmen and building snow forts to have snowball fights. When Dean came home he would join them in the backyard until the sun finally set, making snow angels with them. Back then Lily had been Dean's little angel. Back then, everything had been perfect; her parents never fought, her sister loved her, and when they finally came inside the house Karen always had three steaming mugs of hot chocolate awaiting them on the counter.

But then everything came crashing down when she came home from her first year at Hogwarts: Dean and Karen were almost always either shouting at each other or not speaking to one another, and Petunia hated her. When Lily came home for Christmas in her second year, her parents had announced that they were getting divorced, and then all hell broke loose. Dean started drinking heavily, and Petunia was rarely ever home, always opting to go over to a friend's house rather than be home when Dean got back from his round at the bars. If the redhead had had any friends, she probably would have done the same thing; but since she was friendless, she was stuck at home to endure Dean's wrath, though back then it wasn't nearly as bad as it was now.

When The Hogwarts Express finally pulled into King's Cross a few hours later, Lily wearily dragged her trunk off the train, ready to go home to her room. All around her families met with their sons and daughters, hugging them or clapping them on the back. She averted her gaze to the ground, feeling quite lonely indeed. She knew that no one would be here to greet her, and as always it hurt to see her peers welcomed so warmly by their own families.

_It must be nice to be loved,_ she thought cynically as she eyed the people milling around on the platform with envy.

"Hey, Evans! Wait up!"

_Oh, God._ She wondered if it was even worth turning around for, or if she could run away before they caught up with her. But it was too late: The Haters had spotted her, and there was no use trying to run now.

"You're actually going home?" sneered Monica as the four girls caught up with the redhead, who chose to remain silent.

"Wow. I can't believe your parents actually _want_ you to come home!" Kristi said meanly. "If you were my kid I'd tell you not to bother at all!"

Cruel laughter erupted from them, but Lily refused to listen or answer. She simply stood there with her back to the other girls, waiting until they grew bored with her unresponsiveness. And sure enough, when The Haters realized that they were not going to get a reaction from her they left, glaring daggers into her back.

At long last she sighed, letting out the breath she had been holding during the encounter.

"You shouldn't listen to them, you know," a voice said gently from behind her. She whirled around to come face to face with Nicole Stone, one of The Haters. She continued on quickly, noticing the lethal death glare coming from the redhead. "Look, I know we haven't exactly gotten along very well since…well, at all, but I think it's stupid. I don't even know why the other girls pick on you. You seemed so nice in first year…but Monica and the others never really seemed to like you much."

"Thanks for the news flash, Stone, but I don't care," the redhead snapped, continuing to glare. "I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to trick me into thinking that you actually want to be my friend, and then you plan on publicly humiliating me in front of the entire school when we get back, right? Well, it's not going to work. So piss off."

The other girl actually looked hurt. "I'm sorry, Lily," she whispered, taking a step back. "I just thought—well, I guess I just wanted to make amends, because I feel awful for all the things we've done to you over the years. It doesn't seem right, that's all." She shrugged. "I personally think it's cruel, the way the other girls treat you."

Lily looked at Nicole—actually looked at her for the first time since the beginning of their first year. She was tall, taller than the redhead herself, and thin, with silky black hair that grew down to the end of her shoulder blades. Her fringe was parted to the side so that it hung continuously in front of her right eye so that she always had to push it out of her face so she could see. Her eyes themselves were a clear, baby blue. She was quite pretty, actually.

Still, she couldn't help but be suspicious of this raven-haired beauty. "I can't trust you," the redhead said at last. Nicole hung her head slightly. "I know you say all of this stuff, and part of me really wants to believe that you mean it, but still…I dunno. I can't trust you."

"That's okay," the other girl said, nodding and taking another step back from the redhead. "I understand why, and I can't say that you blame me. I'm not asking for your trust or anything. I just wanted you to know that I was sorry for all the hurtful things I've done to you in the past. I can sort of relate to you, I suppose."

"How on earth can you relate to _me_, the leper of Hogwarts? You're one of the most popular girls in school."

"I didn't used to be, before Hogwarts," Nicole said quietly, hugging herself tightly. "You see, I'm a Muggle-born too, like you. Before Hogwarts all the kids at school used to tease me constantly. I used to be chubby for my age, and I wore glasses, too, so everyone picked on me. When I got to Hogwarts I realized that I could have a fresh start: a new school with new friends who didn't know anything about my past, so when Monica and the other girls starting picking on you, I just sort of went along with it, because in my mind it meant that they wouldn't come after me. I was glad to pass on the torch to someone else, so to speak. But then I started to remember how awful it felt to feel so alone with no friends. I felt terrible for being so nasty to you. You don't know how many times I've tried to make amends with you, but every time I'd chicken out at the last second."

"So why didn't you chicken out this time?"

"I dunno, actually," Nicole admitted honestly. "I just saw the way you were standing there while they insulted you, and my resistance just broke, I guess. Something in you reminded me of—"

But before she could finish, another voice cut through the air. "Hey Evans!"

"Who is it _now?_" the redhead grumbled, turning in the direction the voice had come from. "Damn it!" she cursed.

James Potter was loping toward the two girls, his breath coming out in little patches of fog that hung in front of him like white clouds in the cold winter air. "I see you decided to come home for the break then," he said when he reached them, panting. Finally noticing Nicole standing next to the redhead, he looked up and grinned. "Hey, Stone."

"Hello, James," Nicole said, giggling and blushing.

Lily shook her head. Was she the only female left in all of England that could see through that charming smile of Potter's? It appeared so. "What do you want now, Potter?"

He turned back to her. "Oh, right. I was just saying that I see you decided to come home for Christmas," he said.

"Why do you care so much?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I just saw you here and figured I'd drop by and say hullo—"

She rolled her eyes. "Sure. Well, hello Potter. Goodbye Potter." And she turned to leave.

"Lily wait!" Nicole said, running after her. She handed the redhead a piece of parchment with numbers neatly printed on one side. "That's my phone number, in case you ever want to hang out or something. I'm nearly always home. We should get together sometime during the break. It would be fun."

"Thanks, I guess," the redhead said, one eyebrow raised suspiciously at the piece of parchment as if she expected it to jump out of her hand and bite her. "See you, then."

"Bye!" Nicole called cheerfully after her, waving as the other girl got into a taxi and drove off.

Lily's first impression was that the house was empty, which suited her just perfectly. She paid the taxi driver and hauled her trunk up the porch steps. Lifting up the placemat (which always made her snort, because it said, "Welcome!" when the chances of being welcomed in that house were very slim indeed) she found the key to the front door where it always was and unlocked the door, replacing the key. She began dragging her trunk upstairs to her room when Dean came walking into the living room from a side door that led to the basement.

"You never wrote," he said, coming to stand at the bottom of the stairs. She paused and glanced back at him, trying to discern whether or not he'd been drinking. It didn't appear as if he had been, but that wasn't always the case.

She shrugged. "I forgot."

"You should call your mother, you know. Tell her that you got home safely and such. She'll be worried about you."

"Since when do you care about Mom?" she retorted, and instantly regretted it. She closed her eyes, waiting for a fist, but it didn't come. Instead he simply stared up at her without moving or saying a word. "I'm sorry, Daddy. It's been a long day, and I'm kind of tired from the train ride. I'll call Mom later sometime."

Dean nodded, then turned around and walked over to the couch and flipped on the television. Just as she'd turned back around, however, he called after her, "How about Chinese tonight for dinner?"

"Sounds good to me."

Once again he nodded, his eyes never leaving the screen. "I'll order it in a little bit then."

She dropped her trunk of in her room, and then collapsed on the bed, thinking about her encounter with Nicole at the train station. Indeed, it had been an interesting experience. It was weird that someone who had been your enemy for the past six years would suddenly want to be your friend. She still felt suspicious of her, though another part wanted so badly for Nicole to actually _want_ to be her friend. She knew that if this turned out to be some sort of trick, she would be crushed—more than just upset, more like to the point of permanent emotional damage. She wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to trust another human being yet. She didn't even trust _herself_ right now. Every person she had ever trusted in the past six years had betrayed her, usually in some sort of horrendous, life-changing, could-never-be-forgotten kind of way. She now knew that trust could not be given lightly, because it could be easily taken advantage of.

_I'm better off not becoming emotionally attached to anyone else_, she thought bitterly, thinking of Brady. _That way I can't be hurt anymore. If I hide my emotions, no one can manipulate them against me. I just won't _feel _anything anymore._

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

For the next several days it seemed as if Dean had cleaned up his act. He appeared to be sober all the time, and Lily discovered that all his time spent in the basement was spent painting. Dean had been an aspiring artist, working at a famous art gallery in London for most of his life, but the divorce had hit him hard, and he'd lost his job. She hadn't seen him pick up a paintbrush in at least four years, so she was surprised when he took her down to the basement one afternoon and showed her all of his paintings.

"Wow," she'd said breathlessly, taking time to look at every picture. She drank up all of the details in them, the bright colours and happy faces in some, and the sombre greys and blacks in the others. "These are amazing."

"I know I haven't exactly been the greatest father to you," Dean had said uncomfortably, watching as she ran her fingers of the face of a young woman portrayed in one of his paintings. "But I'm trying to get better, for you."

"Oh, Daddy," she said, and went to hug him—something she hadn't done in years and years. "It's okay that you haven't always been there. I love you anyway."

But then Christmas Eve rolled around, and when Lily came home from a jog around the neighbourhood, she could instantly tell that something had changed. The house was dark when she walked in the front door, and she found a note taped to the fridge from Dean saying only "Went out. Be back later." It wasn't even signed, but of course she knew who it was from. She instantly feared the worst, knowing somehow that he had gone out drinking.

She was just about to go up to her room when there was a knock on the front door. Puzzled—who on earth could _that_ be? —she went to answer it.

"James!"


	8. Fall to Pieces

**Chapter 8 Fall to Pieces**

_I looked away_

_Then I looked back at you_

_You tried to say things you can't undo_

…_I don't wanna fall to pieces_

_I just wanna sit and stare at you_

_I don't wanna talk about it_

_And I don't want a conversation_

_I just wanna cry in front of you_

**Fall to Pieces by Avril Lavigne**

"What are you doing here?" Lily asked, shocked to see none other than James Potter standing on her porch. "How did you even know where I lived?"

James shrugged, rubbing his gloved hands together. "I saw you walking around earlier, and I followed you home. I wanted to give you something."

She cocked her head at him, pushing her flame-bright hair out of her face. "You followed me home?"

Again he shrugged. "I wanted to talk, and give you this."

He thrust a brightly wrapped package into her hands. She examined the box carefully, held it delicately in her slender fingers. It had been ages since she received a gift from anyone; she had nearly forgotten the feeling.

"I-I don't know what to say," she whispered, feeling tears welling up behind her eyes.

"You don't have to say anything, Evans," James replied, smiling at the shocked yet pleased look on her face. She looked almost like a child who had just gotten exactly what they wanted for Christmas, and he couldn't help but wonder when the last time she'd gotten a present was.

"I didn't get you anything," she said shamefully, not meeting his eyes.

"You didn't have to get me anything," he told her gently. The look on her face was as good as any gift she could have bought at a store, in his opinion. "But you can't open it until tomorrow morning. It's tradition."

"Thank you."

He smiled. "You don't even know what it is yet."

"That doesn't matter," she replied quietly. "I don't have to know what it is. It's enough just knowing that you…cared enough to get me something at all. It doesn't matter what it is."

He was actually blushing a little now, which was interesting, because he _never_ blushed. It was too girly. He was amazed at her reaction though; obviously this poor girl had been neglected for far too long, if just the sight of a present—even one from someone she seemed to despise—made her face light up so much. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone so genuinely pleased to receive a gift.

"Happy Christmas, Evans," he said, and turned to leave.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was reaching out and touching his arm. "Potter?"

He turned back around. "Yeah?"

She suddenly seemed shy, shuffling her feet and not meeting his gaze. "Would you mind…staying with me for a little while?" she asked so quietly that he couldn't be sure if he'd heard her right. "Please?"

He smiled again and nodded his head. "Sure, Evans."

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

He stayed with her for over an hour, sitting with her on her porch steps, just talking. They talked about everything—school, mostly, with a bit of family thrown in there. She was hesitant to talk about her family, he noted early on in the conversation, so he tried not to bring the subject up very often. He learned about her horrible older sister, Petunia, who hated Lily simply because she was a witch. He also learned that her parents had split up when she was six, and Petunia had moved out four years ago, but other than that, she didn't say much else. She learned that he was an only child, and that his parents were always at work for the Ministry of Magic. They were both Aurors, dark-wizard catchers.

She was actually starting to loosen up with him, even laughing at some of his jokes. But then a black car turned onto the street, and her entire attitude changed suddenly. Her body went rigid, and her emerald eyes grew huge, and they shone with the same emotion he'd seen several months ago, after hearing her throwing up in their shared bathroom at Hogwarts. But this time the emotion was far stronger, and it was easily recognizable as what he could only describe as terror. The black car turned into the driveway with a squeal of tires, and the engine was cut soon afterwards. The door opened, and a tall man staggered from the vehicle, several beer cans falling after him.

"Oh, God," Lily whispered fearfully, and seemed to cringe away from the man. "You have to leave, now. I'm really sorry, James, but—"

"LILY!" the man shouted, and she sank further away. The man came stumbling up to the porch, and as soon as he'd stepped close enough James could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Who the hell are you?" he slurred at James.

"Umm…I'm James Potter, sir. I go to school with your daughter," James said awkwardly, rising to a standing position.

Lily stood as well, shaking and pale. "Maybe you should go now…"

But Dean seemed to be ignoring his daughter for the time being, anyway. "Oh, do you? So you must know what she's like then."

James shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not sure if I know what you're talking about."

"She's worthless, this one," Dean continued to slur. "Jus' like her mother, I always say. Worthless little bitch."

"Daddy, please," the redhead begged, reached out to touch her father's sleeve, but he shook her away, and once again she flinched.

"Whas' a'matter, you worthless bitch? Am I embarrassin' you in front of your boyfriend?"

"He's not my—" she started, but Dean interrupted with harsh laughter.

"Of course he's not your boyfriend. No one would date you! You're too ugly, too fat—"

"Actually, Mr. Evans, I happen to think your daughter is quite beautiful," James said boldly, standing a little straighter.

Dean stared at James as if he had just seen him. "Yeah, well…I think it's time for you to go home now, young man. Me 'n my daughter here need to have a discussion."

"Right," said James, and he pulled Lily away from her father. He bent down and kissed her cheek, unashamed that her father was standing right there. "I'll be seeing you around then. Merry Christmas."

"Thank you," she said sincerely, "for everything. And I'm really sorry about him," she added softly, so that Dean couldn't hear her.

"All right, come on now," Dean said loudly, and then reached out and snatched up Lily's wrist in a grip so tight that she winced. He threw open the front door, and tossed her inside, causing her to stumble and nearly fall. She reached out and grabbed the wall beside her, and met James's eyes one last time before the door was slammed shut in his face, cutting his view from the scene inside the dark house. Those emerald green eyes that he had looked into for the past hour, the ones that lit up with her emotions, were suddenly dull—not even scared anymore, just sort of lifeless.

James was shaking with fury that her father had the _balls_ to treat his own daughter like that. But for the moment there was nothing he could do for her. It was like what Moony had told him: he had to wait until she came to him, even if it was really hard. He trotted down the porch steps, turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

Inside the house, Lily was cowering against the wall as her father advanced on her.

"What did you tell him?" Dean shouted in her face, nearly overwhelming her nostrils with the scent of alcohol. "WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM, YOU WORTHLESS—"

"Nothing!" she cried, pressing herself against the wall behind her. "I swear, Daddy—"

"Don't you 'Daddy' me! I'm not stupid! I know you told him something! Didn't you?! DIDN'T YOU?! ANSWER ME, YOU LITTLE SLUT!"

"I didn't tell him anything!" she insisted loudly. "I swear! I didn't tell him anything!!"

Her head snapped to the side with the first slap, and tears sprang up into her eyes. She was prepared for the second one, and threw up her hands a moment before it came, so that it mostly hit on her forearms. With one hand, however, he peeled back both of her arms and pinned them against the wall above her head. With the other hand, he continued to hit her, and she was forced to take the numerous blows until she had collapsed on the floor and was whimpering in pain and fear.

A kick to the ribs sent her reeling on her side, tears coursing down her face. She curled up into a ball, taking the brute force of Dean's attack until a trail of blood began trickling from the corner of her mouth. At last Dean was worn down, and his anger dissipated. He left her huddled in a ball at the bottom of the stairs sobbing and went to his room. She stayed like that for a while afterwards, crying and rocking her body back and forth, trying to calm down. Finally she stood and staggered to the door, using one hand to steady herself against the wall. Jerking open the door, she stumbled out into the cold winter air.

She didn't know where she was going; the tears blurred her vision, but her feet appeared to know where to go, almost as if they were walking along a well-trodden road. She didn't question her feet in the slightest; she let them lead her where the wanted. Even though she had promised herself that she wouldn't get emotionally attached to anyone again, she had let herself believe that Dean really _was_ better, that he wouldn't hit her anymore. Once again, she had been bitterly disappointed, and what was worse, Dean had practically publicly announced his abusiveness to James. She had known that James had already suspected foul play with her bruises, but now he had proof that her father was a drunk who wasn't very nice to his youngest daughter. She was more embarrassed—of James finding out—than upset that her father had gone back on his word.

"Hey there," a voice said softly, alerting her to the fact that her feet had stopped moving and she was now standing still in front of a shadowy figure.

_Oh great,_ she thought miserably, wiping her eyes, _I've probably just run into a serial killer, and he's going to rape me, kill me, and leave my body to freeze out here in the snow…and on Christmas Eve, too._ Not that the date held any special meaning for her anymore.

But the figure stepped forward, and she saw that it was only James Potter again.

"Are you like stalking me or something?" she asked bitterly, running her fingers through her hair, dislodging the snow that had begun to pile up there.

"Hey, you found me here," he said lightly. "I was just sitting on the swings here when you come running up. Didn't you know it was me?"

"No, actually I thought you were a serial killer who was going to rape and kill me and then leave my body to be covered with snow so that no one would find it until spring, when the snow finally melted and—"

He reached out and pulled her into his arms, interrupting her pointless babble. She felt like pushing him away, telling him to let her go, but she was too tired, and too cold. So instead she just put her head on his chest and sighed, once again too wrapped up in her thoughts to realize the tears streaming down her face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, even though he knew the answer before he even finished asking the question.

The answer was automatic. "There's nothing to talk about."

He pulled her more tightly against him, placing his head on hers and inhaling the scent of her shampoo. Something broke inside of her then, and as if a dam had been torn down, she began to sob into him, not holding anything back anymore. She cried for Petunia's abandonment of her, she cried for her mother's relentless lectures, comparisons and neglect, she cried for her lost relationship with her father, she cried for the loss of Brady, and the hole he left behind in her. She even cried for the incident in which she'd coughed up the blood, and the shower scene after that. She cried for the treatment she got by The Haters, all the mean comments they had ever said to her. She cried for her childhood innocence lost, or rather taken forcefully from her. She cried for her parents' divorce and her lost childhood. She cried for all the physical pain she'd endured over the course of nearly nine years, the countless beatings. She cried for every bruise, cut and scrape, and she cried for the thick layer of ice that had formed over her heart because of them.

James never said anything to her, just held her and rocked her while she cried. It was all he could do, but somehow he thought that it just might be enough. Or rather, he hoped it would be. He couldn't begin to imagine everything she was crying for now; for all he knew, she was simply crying because her father had just beaten her up. But again somehow he knew that it was more complex than one beating. Still, he remained silent, hoping that one day she would be able to tell him everything that she cried for now.


	9. Bring Me To Life

Chapter 9 Bring Me to Life 

_Wake me up_

_Wake me up inside_

_I can't wake up_

_Wake me up inside_

_Save me_

_Call my name and save me from the dark_

_Wake me up_

_Bid my blood to run_

_I can't wake up_

_Before I come undone_

_Save me_

_Save me from the nothing I've become_

**Bring Me to Life by Evanescence**

After a while, her sobbing slowed down and eventually stopped. Yet they still stood there, wrapped up in each other's arms, for quite some time afterwards.

"Hey Potter?" she said after awhile.

"Hmm?"

"Do you remember the night Brady broke up with me? And I told you that I didn't need you to save me?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

She took a deep breath and let out it out in a sigh. "I don't think you want to save me. I'm not worth it, to be honest."

"What makes you say that? Of course you're worth it!"

"I'm pretty screwed up, Potter," she said quietly. "You don't even know the half of it."

"I know that you're being abused," he said, his voice equally soft.

She shook her head. "Like I said, you don't even know the half of it. You wouldn't want to save me if you found out half the shit I've done in the past."

"I don't care about that stuff, Lily. I care about keeping you safe from your father. The rest doesn't matter."

She buried her head further in his chest, wondering whether or not she should tell him about the throwing up and not eating thing. Would he be so willing to stick around if she told him? At the moment she really didn't feel like testing the theory. She was feeling better than she had in months right now, and she didn't want to let anything ruin that.

"You know something, Potter?"

"Hmm?"

"I just realized that you called me by my first name for the first time ever."

"Yeah, well you called me James earlier, when your dad came home," he pointed out.

"I was kind of freaking out then," she shot back.

He shrugged. "Would you rather I call you Evans?"

She shrugged, too. "I dunno. I was just saying."

"Me too."

The lapsed into a long silence in which neither of them moved or spoke. Finally the both began to shiver, and James spoke in a whisper to her ear.

"I guess I should take you back home."

Home was the last place in the world she wanted to be right now, but it wasn't as if she had anywhere else to go, either. She simply nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. Actually, you should probably get home, too. It is Christmas Eve, after all."

He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "My parents don't really care, as long as I make an appearance tomorrow evening. I could probably spend the whole night tonight and day tomorrow with you and they wouldn't even notice that I was gone."

Part of her wished that he _would_ spend all that time with her. The thought of going home to be alone with her father terrified her. She had no desire to be left alone; in fact, she was craving to have human contact with _anyone_ who wasn't part of her bloodline. Being alone with her father was not an appealing thought in the least. Just because it was Christmas didn't mean that Dean would take a break from the beatings, she knew. She sighed and leaned heavily against James's body. He stroked her hair with his gloved hand.

At long last they peeled apart, and he began walking with her back to her house. When they arrived on her street, James was instantly able to discern which house was hers: it was easily recognizable, considering it was the only house on the whole block that wasn't decorated with Christmas lights. He walked her up the porch steps and stood with her at the front door, where she seemed to hesitate with her hand hovering above the doorknob. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, wishing he could somehow take away all of her pain. She sighed, her breath coming out as a white cloud to hover in front of her before disappearing once more. James couldn't stand the look of sadness on her face.

"You know that if you ever want to talk—"

"There's nothing to talk about," she whispered, even though they both knew she was lying, and she twisted the doorknob so that the door popped open. Inside the house was just as dark as it was outside, but for Lily it was even darker and colder. She shivered, but steeled herself against it and stepped inside.

She began to close the door, but he grabbed hold of it so she couldn't close it all the way. "Don't forget my present, Evans."

"Goodnight." After a moment's hesitation, she looked up into his eyes and smiled shyly, adding, "James."

The next morning dawned cold and grey, and heavy clouds hanging in the sky promised more snow. The redhead sat cross-legged in her bed with the brightly wrapped package sitting in front of her knees. The bright wrapping paper seemed almost like a joke in this house, where everything matched the weather outside: cold, dreary and grey. It seemed almost to make a mockery of her entire existence.

She had been sitting on her bed staring at James's gift for nearly two hours before she finally decided to open it. Carefully she peeled back the tape and paper, not wanting to tear it but rather preserve it. Underneath the paper was a simple white box, and when she removed the top of the box, the breath came out of her chest in a little gasp, and she put her hand over her mouth. Inside the box was a beautiful sleek ball gown the colour of emeralds—the same shade almost exactly as her eyes. On top of the silk material sat a folded up piece of parchment that had her named scrawled across the front in calligraphy. She extracted the note from the box with shaking fingers.

Inside the note her eyes settled on the familiar script of James Potter's, and she vaguely wondered whether or not he had been the one to address the note or not, considering the writing on the inside of the note was quite a bit different from that on the outside.

_Evans,_

_Merry Christmas. If I know you, you're probably sitting there thinking, 'I can't possibly accept such a gift, especially from James Potter,' but the answer is quite simple: yes, you can. I am formally inviting you to the Annual Potter Family Christmas Ball. And to come to such a fancy event, you need a fancy dress, and…well, would you look at that? You are now the owner of a fancy dress in which you could attend a ball. And yes, while this _is_ an invitation, you can't really say no. Because this dress cost me quite a bit of pocket money, and it just so happens that it's non-refundable. I know that even _you_ aren't cold-hearted enough to decline, so I shall see you this evening around 8 o'clock at my house._

_Sincerely yours,_

James Isaac Potter P.S. I hope I got the right size…if not, I guess you'll just have to do some magic to make it fit. 

Enclosed with the note was an address and directions of how to get to his house. She was feeling panicky again; the dress was most certainly expensive. How could she accept it? But like his note had said, she didn't really have a choice now. Why did he insist on torturing her? She felt like ripping her hair out. She had _no_ clue what to do at a ball, for crying out loud! She would be laughed right out of his house, and she would never be able to show her face again. Period the end, thanks for playing.

She jumped out of bed and began pacing around her room, knocking her jacket off the back of her desk chair. Another piece of parchment came tumbling out of the pocket, and Lily bent down and snatched it up. It was Nicole's phone number. _That's it!_ the redhead thought triumphantly. _I'll call Nicole! I'm sure _she_ knows how to act at a ball!_

Someone answered on the third ring. "Hello?" a man's voice asked cheerfully. In the background she could hear the shredding of paper and children's voices laughing excitedly.

"Oh, umm…is Nicole there? I'm a friend from school," she said awkwardly, feeling lame. Of course her family would be opening presents right now! She'd probably just ruined their Christmas…

"Hello?" Nicole's voice said breathlessly from the other end.

"Nicole? Hi, it's—"

"Evans! Hi!" Nicole said happily. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," the redhead responded, feeling shy. "I'm sorry I called so early…and on Christmas and all—"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Nicole dismissed her apology easily. "I'm so glad you called! I was beginning to think that you weren't going to call me at all."

"Well, anyways, I was just kind of wondering if you'd maybe want to help me with something…"

"Sure! What is it?"

"I was invited to a ball, tonight…and, well…it's just that I've never been to a ball before, and so I'm kind of freaking out. I thought if anyone could help me, you could, and you told me to call you anytime."

"A ball? Really? How exciting!" Nicole exclaimed. "Hey, this wouldn't be the fancy ball James Potter's family throws every Christmas, would it?"

"Actually, yes. How did you know that?"

"As a matter of fact, I was invited as well! Isn't that funny?"

"Oh, really?"

"Well, here…how about I come over to your house so we can get ready together? Or would you rather come here?"

"I'd prefer to come to your house, if you don't mind," the redhead answered hastily. "It's just my dad…I don't think he's really in the mood for company today."

"Oh, no worries babe," Nicole said, once again dismissing the matter. "My house is really close to James's, anyway. We could probably walk over there, so it might be better if you came here instead. When do you want to come?"

"It doesn't really matter to me." This was true; it wasn't as if she had any other plans that day.

"Okay…. so how about you come by around 3 then? That way we have _plenty_ of time to get ready. Is that okay with you?"

"Absolutely. I'll need your address, of course."

"Do you have a ride here?"

"Umm…"

"I could come get you, if you want. It might be easier that way."

"Can you drive?"

"Oh yeah, and I have a car, too. So _you_ give me _your_ address, and I'll swing by and pick you up this afternoon."

So the rest of the day was spent on homework; after all, she had nothing better to do, at least until eight o'clock that night. At ten minutes to three, she finally emerged from her bedroom, and with the white box holding the dress tucked carefully under one arm, she stole down the stairs, listening for any signs that might alert her to her father's whereabouts in the house. It appeared as if she wasn't going to have to deal with explanations, but just as she had set her fingers on the handle of the front door, she heard Dean clear his throat from behind her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She took a deep breath. "Out," she replied, feeling somewhat rebellious.

"No you're not," Dean told her firmly, "you're grounded."

This thoroughly shocked her; she had never, ever been grounded before. Dean had always preferred a more physical approach to punishment. "Oh really?" she managed to say indifferently. "I wasn't aware of that."

"It's Christmas, you know," he said, apparently ignoring her comment.

"Yeah? So what? That doesn't mean anything to me any more," she shot back. "And clearly it doesn't mean much to you, either."

"And just what—"

"Oh, there's my ride. Bye." She jerked open the door, flew down the porch steps, and hopped in the white sedan that had pulled up in front of the house before her father had the chance to say anything else.

"Hey babe," Nicole said brightly from the driver's seat, flashing the redhead a friendly smile.

"Hi," Lily said back breathlessly, securing the safety belt across her lap and closing the door after her. "Thanks again for giving me a ride, and for being so helpful."

"Oh, it's no problem at all. After all, what are friends for?"

Friends. It was weird having that word associated with another human being in a positive way. It had been so long since she could actually call someone else a friend. She sat back against the seat and smiled. Tonight should prove to be very interesting indeed.


	10. Empty

**Chapter 10 Empty**

_Somebody stop me feeling empty_

_…I act out the abused, bewildered and confused oh_

_Tonight I'm yours but I don't feel it_

_You say it's all a game_

_But one can only play it_

_I have this thought in my head_

_And it's about being noticed_

**Empty by Amanda Ghost**

The Stone household was very chaotic, to say the least. Nicole had three younger siblings and one older. The younger ones consisted of Ricky and George, the twin six-year-olds, Chelsea, who was eight. Nicole's older sister Miriam was nineteen with an infant son of her own, but apparently she almost always stayed in her room.

Chelsea, who was a spitting image of Nicole herself, had come running up as soon as the older girls had stepped foot in the house and thrust a toy wand in the redhead's face, shouting, "Alakazam!"

"That's Chelsea," Nicole said, pushing her little sister aside to welcome her new friend into the house. "Chels, this is Lily Evans, my new friend from school."

"You go to school with Nicole?" Chelsea's blue eyes grew huge with admiration. "I'm going to go there, too, someday when I'm old enough."

"Well, won't that be lovely," Lily said politely.

"Don't mind her," Nicole said, laughing, "or the twins, either. They're around here somewhere. My house can be a little crazy sometimes. But here, let's go up to my room for now."

And she took the other girl by the hand and dragged her through a kitchen and up a flight of stairs, then down another hallway into a large room.

"I'm assuming you have something to wear to the big party tonight," Nicole said, closing the door after them and coming to sit on her bed. She jumped up a second later, and went rushing to another door at the back of the room. She opened it to reveal a large walk-in closet. "Wait until you see my dress. You are going to _flip!_"

The redhead set her white box down on Nicole's king-sized bed and sat down next to it. She examined the room. The duvet was a royal purple colour, and around the bed hung matching velvet hangings. The walls themselves were painted a lighter purple that seemed to accent the dark colours of the bed. Her own room seemed ugly and dull in comparison, and she was glad that Nicole had offered to have her here instead of the other way around.

"Look at this," Nicole declared, coming out of her closet with a dress on a hanger. The dress was a deep, rich blue that brought out the darker flecks of colour in Nicole's eyes when she held it up against her body. "Isn't it fabulous?"

"Beautiful," the redhead replied, nodding enthusiastically. "I can't wait to see it on you!"

"I can hardly wait to wear it!" the other girl exclaimed, twirling around in a little circle, hugging the dress against herself. "I'm so excited for tonight! So come on, it's your turn. Let's see what you brought."

Shyly Lily reached into the white box and carefully removed the gown she had just received that morning, enjoying the feeling of silk against her fingers. She unfolded the dress slowly, not wanting to wrinkle it, and then she held it out for her new friend to see. It was a halter dress with a plunging neckline and would leave the majority of the redhead's back exposed.

Nicole's smile increased until the redhead thought that her cheeks might get stuck permanently. She tossed her own gown on her bed and went to examine the emerald green one. "Oh my," she said, barely containing an excited giggle, "it's so amazing! Absolutely _gorgeous_! Wherever did you get this?"

"Umm…well, it was sort of a gift from someone. From a certain someone, who also happened to be the one to invite me to the ball to begin with."

"Who?" Nicole squealed. "Oh, please tell me!"

"Potter," the redhead mumbled under her breath, hoping the other girl would let it go at that.

"Who? Omigosh, did you say Potter? As in James Potter?"

"Well…yes."

She let out a high-pitched scream, grabbed Lily around the waist, and danced around the room with her. "Omigosh! I can't believe this! That's soooo cute! You are so lucky! James Potter is…uh; he's such a hottie! Oh, I had no idea! No wonder you were freaking out about this so much earlier!"

The redhead couldn't help but get caught up in Nicole's enthusiasm. She grinned too, nervously at first, but finally she was able to loosen up enough to even giggle a little. But her excitement was cut short.

"What happens if I screw up?" she asked, and Nicole stopped dancing.

"Don't be ridiculous, babe, you'll be amazing! Don't worry. I've been to this kind of thing before, and I'll teach you all there is to know about it."

"I'm nervous…"

"Don't worry!" her friend repeated, and resumed their dance. "Tonight is going to be amazing."

Two hours later the family was seated around a large dining table eating lasagne that Nicole's mother—who was originally from Italy—had made. Robert Stone had left the United States and gone to Italy when he'd been in college for a student exchange program. There he had met Anita Giuseppe, and they had fallen in love and were married a year later. Two years after that, Miriam had been born. The three girls were all born in Italy, but the family had moved to England when Nicole turned eleven and received her Hogwarts acceptance letter in order to be closer to the school. The twins had been born soon after in London.

"Are you sure you don't want any lasagne, Lily?" Mrs. Stone asked. "You haven't had lasagne till you've tried mine! The recipe has been in my family for generations."

The redhead shook her head. "No, thank you, Mrs. Stone," she said politely. "I already ate back at my house, with it being Christmas and all. I've been eating all day it seems!"

This, of course, was a lie. The last meal she'd consumed had been four days ago. She pictured the green ball gown laying on Nicole's bed upstairs, and knew she couldn't compromise not fitting into it by eating any lasagne, no matter how good it looked or smelled.

"Yeah, _Mamma_," Nicole said, glancing down at her own food. "There will be plenty of food at the party tonight. We don't want to be rude by not eating anything while we're there!"

"Nicole, _tu finisci la cena!_" Mrs. Stone told her daughter, pointing to Nicole's half eaten lasagne.

Nicole pouted, then crossed her arms over her chest. "_Perché?_ _Ho poca fame, Mamma!_"

"Not me!" Ricky—or George, the redhead wasn't really sure which one it was—said enthusiastically. "_Ho molta fame!_" And he shoved another bite of his lasagne in his mouth, as if to make a point.

Mrs. Stone reached out and patted the twin on the top of his mop of brown curls. "That's a good boy, Ricky."

"Sorry about that," Nicole said later back up in her room. "Sometimes my family will switch to speaking Italian randomly. Sometimes I even do it at school." She laughed, blushing a little as well. "I did it a lot my first year, if you remember."

Lily _did_ remember a few incidents in which Nicole had answered a professor's question in Italian, and then she couldn't seem to understand why no one understood her response. And several times during the first half of their first year, Nicole would get very excited while saying something in the Great Hall or in the hallways, and would switch in the middle of a sentence from English to Italian, not even noticing until someone pointed it out to her. These incidents became fewer and fewer as they progressed further in school, however, and soon she had stopped them altogether.

"So what were you saying?"

Nicole shrugged. "She told me to finish dinner, and I said, 'Why? I'm not very hungry, Mom!' Then Ricky had to show off and tell her that he was very hungry."

"I didn't realize the twins knew Italian as well."

"Oh, yes, they can speak a little of it, basics, you know, but they can understand more than they can say. Same with Chelsea; she knows a little more than the twins, but not much. She doesn't know it as well as Miriam and I do, because we lived in Italy for most of our lives. But my whole family knows Italian, although it sometimes drives the others crazy when Miriam, my mom or I start speaking really quickly, or when we use words they don't know. Even my dad."

"That's so cool. I only know English."

"I could teach you a little Italian, if you want me to," Nicole said excitedly. "I offered to teach the other girls at school, too, but they weren't interested. But if I taught you the basics, we could hold conversations right in front of them and they wouldn't know what we were saying! It would drive them nuts!"

"That would be awesome," the redhead said, already picturing Monica's face.

"I'll start teaching you later then," the other girl said, clearly pleased. "Right now we need to start getting ready or we'll be more than fashionably late, and everyone knows that that is NOT okay!"

They both laughed, and Nicole pushed her friend into a chair in front a desk with a large mirror on top. "Now…let's get started!"

By seven o'clock both girls were finally dressed and properly made up for the party. Nicole had had to alter Lily's gown so that it fit her correctly, and now they both looked nothing short of amazing. But the redhead was having issues with the notion of being pretty. In her mind, putting the dress on had been like adorning a pig with a gold collar: pointless, because no matter what fancy accessories were added, in the end it was still going to be a pig. She paced along Nicole's bedroom floor until the other girl finally lost her patience.

"Evans, really now, I think your edging on paranoid," Nicole said calmly. "You look…nothing short of amazing, okay? You're so pretty I can't even think of a word good enough. So relax! Just take a deep breath and let it out slowly."

"I can't help it!" the other girl cried, putting her face in her hands. "I feel like I'm going to vomit…" Except that there was nothing in her stomach to vomit for once.

"Look, did you want to head over there early? We might be able to catch the boys before the rest of the party guests arrive. Then you'll see what a huge deal you're making out of nothing!"

"That's easy for you to say," the redhead muttered, resuming her pacing. "You've done this sort of thing before. I'm a social outcast, Nicole! The local freak! Sometimes I think you forget that!"

Nicole went over and grabbed her friend by the shoulders. "You have got to stop saying that about yourself," she said firmly, shaking her a little. "You aren't a freak, and you only think you are because of Monica and the others, and they were just jealous of you, to be honest. They notice how all the boys look at you—have looked at you for the past six years. You are gorgeous, and they know it, and it scares them because before you showed up the world revolved around them. But you can't let yourself start believing what they tell you, or they'll win in the end, and all of this preparation will have been for nothing."

"Thanks, Nicole," the redhead said tearfully. "I really needed that I think."

"No problem. Just don't even _think_ about crying, because I did _not_ just spend two and a half hours getting ready just to have you ruin all your pretty make up!"

In the end, Nicole ended up dragging Lily out of the house and into her car. "We can't really walk the whole way in heels this high," the raven-haired beauty had said. "I'll park the car when we get closer and we'll walk the rest of the way. Now, just remember what I told you about breathing and not letting anything ruin this for you, okay? And you'll be fine."

They had indeed arrived before anyone else had. Nicole rang the doorbell on a huge mansion that paled Dean's house down to a mere shack. _How embarrassing,_ the redhead thought, remembering the night before when James had stayed at her house.

A pretty woman in a black velvet gown, who was still putting on delicate pearl earrings, answered the door. She smiled at the girls warmly, and gestured them inside. "Hello, Nicole. How have you been, dear?"

Nicole smiled back. "Hello, Mrs. Potter. I've been well, and yourself?"

"Oh, you know," the woman sighed, rolling her coffee-coloured eyes at the ceiling. "Work's been an absolute nightmare, as usual. But what else can you expect?"

Mrs. Potter welcomed them inside to a large living room, in the middle of which was a huge, green pine tree decorated lavishly with ornaments and tinsel, on top of which was a huge golden star. Nicole seated herself comfortably on the couch, while the redhead chose a burgundy armchair. Mrs. Potter then walked over to a large grand staircase and called, "James dear! Some more of your guests are here!"

"If you'll excuse me, ladies, I still have to get ready," she said when she came back. "James and the others should be down shortly—oh, why I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting," she added, as if seeing the redhead for the first time.

Lily jumped up and went to take Mrs. Potter's outstretched hand. "Hello, Mrs. Potter, I'm Lily Evans."

"Oh, I should have known," James's mother said brightly. "My son has been talking about you quite a bit lately, as it so happens. He said you were Head Girl this year. Congratulations."

"Thank you," the girl said shyly, averting her gaze. Somehow she thought it would be rude to look into the older woman's eyes for too long.

"Well, I really must be going now, but it was a pleasure meeting you, Lily. I hope we have the chance to talk again. See you ladies soon!"

The redhead sat back down, waving a hand in front of her face, suddenly feeling hot. She was shaking, and that was only from meeting one person! How on earth was she going to survive this night?


	11. My Last Breath

**Chapter 11 My Last Breath**

_Hold on to me, love_

_You know I can't stay long_

_All I wanted to say was I love you_

_And I'm not afraid_

_Can you hear me?_

_Can you feel me in your arms,_

_Holding my last breath?_

_Safe inside myself_

_Are all my thoughts of you_

_Sweet rapture life_

_It ends here tonight_

**My Last Breath by Evanescence**

"Relax," Nicole whispered, noticing her friend's panicked look. "Here come the boys right now, if I'm not mistaken—"

Sure enough, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and James Potter himself entered the living room all at once, and as soon as they saw the girls, their jaws literally dropped. For several heartbeats, all four boys were completely silent, and Lily was painfully reminded of that night months ago where they had found her crying on the floor. She actually thought that she might burst into tears again, right there if one of them didn't say _something_ soon.

"You look s-stunning," James finally managed to stutter, and Nicole burst into nervous giggles.

"That's what _I _keep trying to tell her!" she said, sounding relieved for all her tough talk about remaining calm. She knew tension when she felt it, however, and this room was _teeming_ with it.

James cleared his throat. "I see the dress fits," he said, using this as an excuse to look up and down the redhead's body. The dress really was quite lovely on her; it accented the green of her eyes, causing them to really stand out, and the contrast of her dark red hair and milky complexion against the gown added to the beauty.

"Actually, Nicole had to alter it," she said just as awkwardly, not quite meeting his eyes. "It was a bit too big…"

"A bit?" repeated Nicole. "Babe, you were practically _swimming_ in it, you're so skinny! But it fits quite nicely now, thanks to yours truly. It took me a little while to figure out how to shrink it, actually…Evans had to look it up in a text book and—"

"Nicole, love, you're babbling," Sirius said gently, and burst into laughter at the shocked look on her face.

"I'm just trying to make conversation," she said, hurt. "No one _else_ is talking, and I hate awkward silences. If you don't want to listen to me talk, then someone else should bring up a conversation to break the ice or something."

That was the great thing about Nicole, Lily decided. She wasn't afraid to say the things that no one else was willing to say even though everyone else was _thinking_ it.

"It's not that we don't want to listen to you talk, dear," Sirius said suavely, coming to sit next to her, "it's just that you weren't telling a very exciting story. You should know that it's all about the _presentation_."

"So how 'bout them Cannons?"

Everyone turned to stare at the rotund boy standing in the doorway, and Peter shrank under all the eyes, and remained quiet after that.

There was another long silence until Nicole could no longer take it. "_Voi dite_, _per favore_ I can't stand this awkward silence anymore. Maybe you should introduce Lily here to your parents or something, James. Is anyone hungry? _Ho molta fame!_"

They just sort of stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending.

"It means you all talk, please! Seriously."

As if some secret code word had been said, they all began laughing, and the atmosphere lightened considerably; everyone visibly relaxed, and they began to chat easily about their Christmases. Lily remained silent during the exchanging of stories, making the occasional comment here and there or laughing at a funny bit, but she shared no personal information. But Nicole, who felt as if she were somehow excluding the redhead unintentionally and who knew nothing of Lily's past, sought to include in her the conversation.

"So how's your Christmas been so far, Lily?" she asked cheerfully when Remus was finished retelling the tale of his day's activities.

Once again the awkward silence filled the room, and the redhead's eyes dropped to gaze at the carpet. "Oh, it's been…well, interesting," she said vaguely, waving a hand in the air and shrugging. "I can honestly say that so far this has been one of the most eventful holidays I've had in a while."

"So…is that a good thing?" the other girl asked, pushing her bangs from her eyes.

Once again she shrugged, still not meeting anyone's eyes. She was saved from answering more questions by the doorbell ringing. James jumped up from his position on the second couch. "I'll get it!" he called loudly, and exited the room. A moment later, he was back, leading a large group of people Lily didn't recognize.

Introductions were made, but the redhead didn't remember any of their names, just that they were other Aurors that worked with James's parents. She was feeling dizzy, and found it a little hard to concentrate on any one thing in particular. Her head was aching a little, too. But she nodded and smiled at the witches and wizards politely, and tried to follow the conversations that went on between them, but found it extremely difficult. People began to show up very quickly after that; sometimes they came in small groups of three or four or in larger groups of up to fifteen at a time. No one showed up alone.

Nicole and Lily stayed together throughout the whole night, chatting and learning more about each other. Sirius and Remus mostly stayed with them as well; Peter hovered around the buffet table (which kept refilling itself when it became empty), and James had to stay and mingle with the other guests. Occasionally he would pop up and say hullo and talk for a few minutes, but then he was whisked away by another witch or wizard.

During one of the rare moments when the redhead was alone (Sirius had just taken Nicole for a dance and Remus had gone to check on Peter), Lily decided to take a seat back in the living room. Her head was spinning, and she felt incredibly hot although her hands felt like ice cubes. She collapsed into the armchair she had been sitting in before the party had begun, placing a shaking hand on her forehead and closed her eyes.

Suddenly James stepped around to the front of the chair and extended his hand to her. "Would you like to dance?"

She was taken aback by the request, and hesitated for a moment. What was he trying to do, exactly? Ever since Brady she was more than a little suspicious of boys. How many of them just wanted her for sex? Still, James was being incredibly nice, and he _had_ bought her this beautiful dress and invited her into his home on Christmas. At last she came to a decision and took the hand he offered her and allowed him to help her stand.

"Your hands are freezing!" he exclaimed, leading her into the ballroom. He moved them into a place on the floor where no one else was and gently placed a hand on her waist, pulling her closer to him. Their feet moved in time with the band playing on the stage near them.

"It must be nice to have so much money," she said absently, watching the small orchestra playing their instruments.

He shrugged. "I guess. I'd rather have my parents home more often, though," he replied. "Sometimes I wish we weren't so rich, because I think that maybe they wouldn't work so much and they'd be around more often."

"I would rather have my parents working," she said softly, gazing at a witch playing a flute solo. The notes were slow and haunting. "I'd rather be alone in a huge house like this any day."

"We should trade lives," he said jokingly, but she when she turned and looked at him, her face was grim.

"I wouldn't wish that on anyone," she said seriously, her eyes shining brightly. "Not even Monica."

He was stunned into silence. _For someone so young, she carries around so much pain_, he thought sadly, and pulled her closer still against him. Quite possibly the worst thing about the whole situation was he felt completely helpless; he didn't know how to stop the abuse, and he didn't know how to approach her about his other suspicions. For now, all he could do was try and be there for her, try to get her to trust him enough to tell him something that would be considered proof enough for the authorities to do something about the abuse.

"May I cut in?" a voice asked smoothly from beside them. They both looked up, and Lily felt her heart come to a screeching halt. Brady Johnson was standing there, looking quite dashing indeed in his tuxedo.

James's eyes narrowed as he looked between the former couple, and he remembered that night long ago where he'd found a broken redheaded girl sitting on the floor crying because of the very person now asking her for a dance.

"I…we should talk," Brady added to the girl, avoiding eye contact with James.

"I'm already dancing with someone," Lily said indifferently, but her heart was practically screaming, "But I really want to be dancing with you!!"

"He won't mind, will you, Potter?" But before really waiting for a sufficient answer, Brady took hold of the redhead's waist and pulled her away from James.

"I guess not," the other boy replied coolly, and stepped away, silently fuming at the intrusion and vowing to keep a close eye on the two.

"You're looking well," Brady told Lily when James had left. "I certainly haven't seen you in a while."

"Gee, Brady, I wonder why. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that you used for sex and then broke up with me. Oh, and that punch? Not a chance that has anything to do with why we haven't seen each other lately."

"Look, I'm really sorry, okay?" he said softly, pulling her closer. "I made a huge mistake when I left you, but it's taken me a while to realize that. I need you, Lily. I miss you. Please, forgive me."

"I don't think I can," she whispered, choking on the words. "I told you I loved you, Brady, and you abandoned me when I needed you the most. I can't trust that you'll be there for me, and if there's no trust in a relationship, there's no point in having the relationship at all, is there?"

"Please," Brady repeated, bending down to kiss her neck. "Please. I need you. I made a mistake."

"Look at them," James snapped furiously to Nicole and Sirius over at the buffet table. He had stormed over to his friends after Brady had showed up, and he was watching the pair like a hawk. "It's disgusting. Does he really think she'll take him back after the way he treated her?"

"I don't know," Nicole replied gently. "She might do just that, though."

"What? Why in the world would she even _think_ about that?"

She shrugged. "Because before she had us, Brady was all she had in the way of a friend," she replied carefully. "And I still don't think she really sees that we're trying to be there for her. She just wants to be loved by _someone_. She's desperate to feel like someone wants her."

"Yeah, but he's a prick, Nicole!" Sirius said incredulously. "Is Evans really desperate enough to take _him_ back, just for a little more attention?"

"I don't know, Sirius. I wish I could tell you, but I haven't known her long enough, or gotten to know her well enough to say for certain what she would or wouldn't do. But I'm really worried about her."

"Me too," James said softly, watching Brady whisper something in the redhead's ear.

"You should know, James…before the party, when we were getting ready…" Nicole hesitated, trying to find the right words. "She'd just put on her dress, but she couldn't quite get the zipper done up so I offered to help. When I went behind her, I could her ribs and spine, like someone stretched the skin against them. It's terrible. And her entire body was _covered_ in bruises; I had to use a concealment potion so no one would notice them."

"Did she say anything about them?"

"I didn't want to ask," Nicole replied, sounding a little scared. "I didn't really want to know. But I thought you should know."

James turned back to the dance floor, but Brady and Lily were gone. "Hey, where'd they go?" he asked, frantically searching the grand ballroom for any trace of the couple. "Where'd he take her?"

"You look beautiful tonight," Brady whispered into Lily's ear. She whimpered and tried to push him off her, but he had her pressed up against a wall in a dark room. She couldn't see anything, but she could feel—could feel Brady's hands roaming all around on her body.

"Please stop," she begged, feeling helplessly scared and alone.

"What's the matter? Don't you remember the way I used to touch you? Don't you miss that?"

"NO!" she wanted to scream, but her voice didn't seem to want to work.

A hand slid up her side and came to rest on her breast. Then it was squeezing her, hard and unforgiving. He crushed her against the wall, pinning her body beneath his.

"Stop," she whimpered pleadingly, starting to gasp for oxygen. Her lungs felt like they were collapsing; she couldn't get enough air. "Please, Brady…stop…just stop…"

"HEY!" The door burst open and light came flooding in. "GET AWAY FROM HER RIGHT NOW!"

Suddenly Brady's weight was gone from her chest, and she fell to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself. James pulled Brady away from the wall and managed to land a punch to his temple that sent him stumbling.

"Get the hell out of my house! NOW!" James bellowed, shoving him out the door of the room, where Sirius and Remus were waiting. "And don't you EVER touch her again!" He crouched down in front of the redhead, trying to assess her for any injuries. "Lily…are you alright?"

"I—can't breathe," she sobbed, her body shaking. Her vision was growing fuzzy around the edges. She coughed and spluttered as she tried to draw in a breath. The world was spinning.

"What? Why? Did he do something to you? Lily?"

She shook her head. "No…I don't know. Please, you have to help me…"

James helped her stand up. "Here, lean on me. We'll get you some help. Just hang on."

"I can't," she whispered, stumbling. "I—can't breathe! I need air! W-why can't I breathe?"

"Calm down," James said, even though he was panicking, too. "It'll be fine, we just need to get you—"

"Am I g-g-going to die?" she wheezed, and collapsed onto the ground again. He went down with her.

"No," he said firmly, pulling her into his arms and rocking her gently. "Somebody get some help!" he yelled out the door. "Hurry!"

Lily was staring at the ceiling, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried helplessly to draw oxygen into her lungs. She could feel James stroking her hair and whispering in her ears, telling her she had to wait just a little bit longer, help was coming, just hold on…but she couldn't. Everything was fading from her vision, tilting sideways, and there was nothing she could do.

She was dying, and she knew it. She should be scared, but oddly enough she was at peace, almost prepared to die. She appreciated having James there with her, though. At least she wouldn't die alone. Feeling something wet splash onto her cheek, she realized that he was crying.

"It's okay," she gasped, reaching out with a shaking hand to grasp his own. "It's okay, James, it's okay. I-I'm ready."

"You aren't going to die, damn it!" he said loudly, shaking her a little. "HELP!" he shouted out the door again. "For the love of God, somebody please HELP!"

"Thanks for trying to save me," she whispered. "I'm sorry I was so s-s-stubborn about it. I guess you were just too late—"

"Don't say that! Don't you say that!" he shouted, cradling her against him possessively. "You're going to live!"

She started to say "I'm better off dead," but suddenly her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

The last thing she remembered was hearing James's voice screaming, "LILY!"


	12. Part of Me

**Chapter 12 Part of Me **

_Nothing ever stops these thoughts and the pain attached to them_

_Sometimes I wonder why this is happenin'_

_It's like nothing I could do would distract me when_

_I think of how I shot myself in the back again_

_Cuz from the infinite words I can say_

_I put all the pain you gave to me on display_

_Didn't realize instead of settin' it free_

_I took what I hated and made it a part of me_

**Part of Me by Linkin Park**

"I cannot disclose the condition of the patient you're requesting," the Healer repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Please, she's our friend," Nicole said pleadingly, her blue eyes huge and watery as she stuck out her bottom lip at the nurse. "_Please_. We have to know!"

"This is ridiculous!" James exploded, shoving a hand through his hair. "We're the ones who brought her in here! What more of a reason do you need?"

"You need to be directly related to the patient," the Healer said, clearly loosing her patience. "I told you this the last time you asked me. I know you checked her in, but you still need to be _directly related_. She is in critical condition, and only immediate family can go in her room."

"Bloody hell! Her family doesn't even _care_ about her!" James yelled, pacing around the waiting room of St. Mungo's, furious. "Besides that, they're Muggles! They don't even know she's _here_."

The Healer shrugged. "I've sent them a letter. I assume the young lady has used the Owl Post before to communicate while she's at school, so I'm sure they know how it works."

"Can't you just tell us how she is?" Nicole asked, her voice breaking. "Is she going to be all right?"

The Healer's face softened, and she seemed to relent a little. "At this point, it's hard to tell. But I'm sure the other Healers are doing their best to help her. Right now, you five can take a seat and wait."

"There has to be some way we can see her," James whispered harshly the second he, Nicole, Sirius, Remus and Peter and stepped away from the main information desk in the magical hospital. "She's almost seventeen, right? Doesn't that mean she has some rights or something?"

"But she's not seventeen right now," Remus said gently. "And even if she was, I don't know that they would let us in there, anyway."

"But there's got to be a way!"

Nicole shifted her feet. "Maybe we should just wait, like the Healer—"

"No," James snapped. "There is no way I'm going to just sit around and wait when I don't know what's going on. I mean, we don't even know if she's going to survive this! She _needs_ us, Nicole, and they won't let us in!"

"Maybe you could get your parents in here, mate," Sirius suggested. "They might be able to get you in."

James jumped up. "Padfoot, you are a genius! Why didn't _I_ see that? I'll just get my parents here!"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Prongs," Remus said cautiously. "I don't think they'll be able to get us in there, either. I think Nicole's right, and we just need—"

"NO!" Everyone in the waiting room, including several Healers who had been walking through, turned to look at James, who had stood up abruptly and shouted quiet loudly.

There was a small popping noise, but in the dead silence of the waiting room it sounded like an explosion. Albus Dumbledore stood suddenly in the middle of the room, a pleasant smile on his face as he turned to face the receptionist. "Hello. I understand there's a bit of problem here."

"You're damn right there's a problem here!" James said loudly, though not as loudly as before. "They won't let us in to see Lily! She could be—"

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, that's quite enough," Dumbledore interrupted gently. He turned to the Healer. "Is there any way I might be able to assist you in this matter?"

"There is no matter in which to assist!" she said, flustered. "I'll say it again: You need to be a blood relative, or you can't see her! Period the end! I didn't make the rules, okay? But I have to enforce them."

"But my good lady, clearly you can see that these are extenuating circumstances," Dumbledore replied calmly. "The girl is Muggle-born, and as such, her true blood relatives don't have access to the hospital."

"Yes, I can see that," the Healer said, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I can't allow these five here to take the place of her _true_ blood relatives. It would be against policy to even let them in her room!"

"Might _I_ be able to speak with the young lady?" the old wizard asked politely. "I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts, where she is Head Girl. I'd just like to make sure she's all right."

The woman sighed and looked to the receptionist. "Given the extenuating circumstances, I suppose I can allow you, Albus, to speak with her, but not for very long. She needs her rest."

"Thank you, madam," he responded, bowing his head politely and moving to follow the squat Healer to the redhead's room. "As for you five, I would appreciate it if you would stay here and try to calm down. I shall return shortly."

True to his word, Dumbledore came back a few minutes later, the Healer, looking very grumpy indeed, in tow. "Miss Evans has made it a point to have you visit her," Dumbledore announced, winking at the teens.

"Not for very long," the Healer snapped. "She really does need her rest! She's very weak right now."

So they were lead to the back of the hospital, where the seriously ill patients were taken. Lily was in a room by herself, lying in a bed against one of the plain white walls. Her face was turned to the side when they came in, but when Dumbledore cleared his throat she turned to face them. There were two other Healers in there, speaking amongst themselves in one corner of the room, scribbling something down on parchment every once in a while.

Nicole went over to the bed first, trying not to cry. "Oh, Lily," she said softly, taking the redhead's hand and placing it against her cheek. "Oh, sweetie."

"I'm sorry," the redhead said quietly.

"Why are _you_ sorry?" the other girl asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, still holding the hand against her face. The boys came to stand around the bed as well. Dumbledore stood near the door to allow them their privacy, and the first Healer joined the other two.

"I really messed up this time," the redhead whispered, her eyes shining.

"It's not your fault," James said firmly. "It was that stupid Slytherin git who—"

Lily shook her head. "No, he didn't do this to me." She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from them again, facing the empty wall. "It was me. _I_ did this to myself."

"How?" Nicole asked gently.

But Lily couldn't seem to speak, so one of the Healers stepped up. "It's alright, dear," she said kindly. "Would you like me to tell them?" When the redhead nodded, the nurse continued, "Lily has been diagnosed with bulimia nervosa. It's an extremely dangerous eating disorder in which a person will binge—meaning they will consume large amounts of food—and then purge—get rid of it by self-induced vomiting, laxative abuse or excessive exercise to burn calories. If left untreated, this disorder is potentially life threatening, like Lily's case. She's lost a lot of weight, and it's putting a lot of pressure on her heart."

Dumbledore stepped up to the side of the bed. "It's not going to be easy, Miss Evans," he said gently. "It's going to be a long road to recovery, but I have a feeling these fine people are willing to help you through it."

Again, Lily didn't reply.

"Why?" Remus asked softly after a moment of silence. "Why would you do this to yourself?"

At first it looked like there wasn't going to be a response. "I just wanted to be good enough." The voice sounded nothing like the redhead they knew; it was nebulous and void of any emotion.

"Good enough for who?" Sirius asked roughly. "Evans, you're perfect! Who cares what other people think?"

"Good enough everyone: Brady, my mom, my dad, my sister, Monica…myself. I just wanted to…I dunno. I just don't know anymore."

James stepped to the other side of the bed, and crouched down so he was looking in her eyes. "Brady is an ass, and he never deserved you. Your mom and dad are stupid if they can't see what a great daughter they have, and your sister is just retarded if she hates you just because you have magical powers. Monica is just jealous, and she is so not worth stressing over it's not even funny. You are beautiful and successful and thin—too thin, in fact. You could stand to gain a little bit of weight, actually."

"You don't need to be perfect," Nicole said gently, squeezing Lily's fingers. "Everyone has their problems, sweetie, and no one can be totally perfect. There are people around you who love you for who you are no matter what, like us."

"I know," the other girl sighed, covering her face with her hands. "I really screwed up, and I don't know how to make things better."

"I'll help you through this," James said, kissing the top of her head. "We all will. Don't worry."

"All right now," said the first Healer, "I think it's time you all left now. Miss Evans needs to rest."

As she shooed them out the door, the second Healer followed them into the hallway. "I know it's difficult to see your friend like this," she said gently, "but there are some things you should know not to do if you're going to help her recover. Never make it seem like this is her fault, because it isn't. She's going to feel very guilty and ashamed for a while, but it's important that you not add to it. Also, you have to remember that no matter how much you want her to get better, she has to _want_ to get better; we can't force it on her. It's going to be a long recovery process, and she's going to need all the support she can get."

The teens nodded solemnly and left together back to the Potters' house, discussing ways they might be able to help Lily salvage what was left of her life.

"She needs to get out of that house," James said passionately, collapsing onto the couch in the living room. The party had pretty much stopped when they had to rush the redhead to the hospital, and now his parents were helping the house elves clean up. "There's no way she's going to get any better with that monster—" He broke off, unable to finish the words. He remembered the look on Lily's face the night before when her father had shoved her in the house—the dull, lifeless look that the real girl behind the eyes had temporarily left her body. Then he recalled her face while she lay in the hospital bed; it was the same look, as if she could simply not feel emotions anymore. He hated it.

"All this time, and none of us had any idea," Nicole whispered tearfully, and Sirius wrapped his arms around her.

"I knew her life wasn't exactly ideal," Remus said, taking the seat next to James. "But I didn't think it was _this_ bad, either. I just can't imagine why she would resort to something so drastic."

"How long do you think the abuse has been going on?" Sirius asked.

"I dunno," James answered. "Last night when she saw her dad's car, she completely changed—one minute she was smiling and laughing at a joke, and the next she was terrified. But when she looked at me before I left, it was like she knew what was coming, and she was prepared for it. She was _expecting_ it. So obviously it's been going on for a while. And besides that, if you haven't noticed it before, when you make sudden movements around her, she flinches, and the same when you touch her when she's not expecting it."

"I feel like there must have been something we could have done for her before this," Sirius said. "I mean, there has been a million warning signs: all the bruises she has when she comes back from summer break, she gets all defensive when asked about them, and she rarely eats in front of anyone. Plus the flinching thing. Why didn't we notice before?"

"No one paid attention to her," Nicole answered softly. Everyone went silent as they contemplated the truth in her words. "We all pretty much ignored her, unless it was to tease her or play a trick on her in your guys' case. Hell, we probably added to the torture she's been through. I mean think about it, we've never actually really thought about her as another human being with feelings; she was just an easy target, a girl who wouldn't stand up for herself."

"You're absolutely right, Nicole," James said after a moment. "What the hell is wrong with us? Why couldn't we see what we were doing to her?"

"Because she smiled," Remus answered. Everyone turned to look at him. "We'd tease her, and she would just brush it off like it meant nothing; she'd smile and move on. She never looked like she was hurting inside. She's good at hiding things."

"I wonder what else we don't know about her," Peter said absently, speaking for the first time. The others were silent, wondering what other form of torture the redhead could have possibly gone through.


	13. Good Enough

**Chapter 13 Good Enough**

_Under your spell again_

_I can't say no to you_

_Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand_

_I can't say no to you_

_Shouldn't have let you torture me so sweetly_

_Now I can't let go of this dream_

_I can't breathe but I feel_

_Good enough_

_I feel good enough for you_

…_So take care what you ask of me_

'_Cuz I can't say no to you_

**Good Enough by Evanescence**

For the remainder of the Christmas break, Lily stayed in the hospital. There was always at least one Healer in her room at all times, to "observe" her. What this really meant was they were making sure she was eating everything they gave her and not throwing it back up. She hated being there, hated being constantly watched, hated the greasy poison they forced her to eat without allowing her the privacy to get rid of it, hated that they were treating her like some fragile piece of glass, hated the absolute lack of control.

She was still feeling awkward around Nicole and the Marauders; she had no idea how to act or what to say now that they knew how screwed up she was. Of course, they tried not to treat her any differently, but it was a little hard, considering the only time they saw her, she was lying in a hospital bed with Healers all over her room. Once they got back to the school, though, she was sure it would be a lot easier to treat her more normally.

Secretly she was hoping that they would all just forget this somehow. She was _horrified_ that so many people knew about her—people that she didn't even consider being friends yet. She didn't even know how much everyone knew about her life, either; she was pretty sure that James and Nicole knew about the abuse, and now they _all_ knew about her eating disorder. What else did they know? Would they tell anyone else?

At last it was time to go back to Hogwarts, and Lily couldn't think of a time where she had wanted to return to school so badly. Most of the Healers had debated whether or not she was healthy enough to leave yet, both physically and mentally. But one of them managed to convince the others that the redhead would be fine.

"She's doing a lot better," Cindy, the Healer who had told the five teens how _not_ to treat their redheaded friend, said during the meeting all of Lily's Healers had held the day before it was time for her to be released. "She's been eating everything we give her without complaint, and she's sleeping more soundly through the night."

"She could just be pretending," Maurine, the Healer who had first denied the teens' entrance to Lily's room, shot back. "Without someone to constantly monitor her eating habits, who knows what will happen? She's prone to relapse, and a relapse with someone with such a serious case of bulimia is very dangerous. She could _die_ the next time, Cindy."

There were murmurs of agreement amongst the other Healers. Seemingly encouraged by the nodding heads of her colleagues, Maurine continued, "We should keep her here until we are absolutely sure she's better."

"No offence, Maurine, but I have more experience with this sort of thing than you," Cindy said politely, not at all deterred by the lack of agreement on her side. "I sincerely think that if we were to release Miss Evans, she will not resort back to her previous condition. She has a lot of people to help her through this, and there is no doubt in my mind that in the end it will be those people who can truly help her. Right now, we're only hindering her progress by forcing her to eat and constantly watching and weighing her. She will be a lot better off in the company of friends than with a bunch of strangers she doesn't know anything about."

In the end, the Healers sided with Cindy, because it was true that she had a lot more experience with eating disorders than any of the others; it was her speciality at the hospital. So Lily was released the next morning.

Like clockwork Nicole and the boys showed up at their regular time to visit the redhead, and were surprised to find her out of bed and dressed. Cindy was in the room, talking, smiling, reaching out and touching the girl's arm.

"Oh, look," Cindy said, glancing up to see the teenagers standing in the doorway, looking surprised. "We've got some good news. Miss Evans can go back to school with you!"

"Really?" Nicole exclaimed, clapping her hands and grinning. "Oh, that's fantastic!"

Cindy smiled as well. "She's also gained some of her lost weight back, so she's getting healthier! It's a very good thing indeed. We're all very proud of her here for making such good progress!"

"Lily, that's great!" Nicole said, going over and hugging her friend. Timidly the redhead managed to return the gesture, though she was still refusing to look anyone in the eyes.

* * *

Several hours later, the six teens were back inside the castle, sitting around the Head's common room. Lily was lying on her stomach on the carpet, reading her Advanced Transfiguration book, Remus was helping Nicole with her potions essay, Sirius and James were playing a game of Wizard's Chess, and Peter sat and looked on in admiration, "ooh-ing" and "ahh-ing" when one of them made a particularly good move.

After suffering a particularly humiliating loss, James decided it was time for the others to leave. "Curfew's in ten minutes," he said defensively when Sirius accused him of being a sore loser. "Unless you want to get caught in the hallways after curfew your first night back."

Sirius stayed behind as the others headed off toward Gryffindor Tower. Nicole hesitated, torn between staying behind with him and being caught in the halls after curfew. "Go on, love," Sirius said, gently shooing her away. "I'll be along in a moment. Me and my mate here have to talk."

Nicole nodded. "If you're sure then," she said, and hurried off to catch up with Remus and Peter.

Sirius turned back to James. "What do you think of Evans?"

James was startled by the question. He glanced behind him to the painting of the unicorn, behind which Lily still lay on the floor of the common room. "What'd you mean?" he asked, turning back to Sirius.

"You love her." It was a statement, not a question.

At first James thought to deny it, but in the end he couldn't. So instead he said, "Do you love Nicole?"

"Don't change the subject, Prongs," Sirius said firmly.

James sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right, Padfoot. But she'll never love me back. I don't even know if she'll ever be able to love again, not after everything she's been through."

"Everyone's capable of love," Sirius said. "How do you know she'll never love you? Have you given her the chance?" When he didn't get a response, he continued. "She needs you, you know. She needs someone who loves her, and who's not afraid to tell her. All she really needs is for someone to love her."

"What if I hurt her like everyone else has hurt her?" James asked quietly.

"You won't," Sirius reassured him. "No doubt about that, mate. You'll treat her right. Just think about it; I can guarantee that if you two figure out how much you need each other, you won't regret it."

"Wait, why do _I_ need this?"

"That's something you're going to have to figure out on your own," Sirius answered cryptically. Then he turned and walked away, leaving James very confused.

_Maybe I do love her_, he thought, scratching his chin, _even though she is really messed up. Maybe Sirius is right, and she just needs someone to love her. Maybe my love will be enough to save her_. He snorted.

"What's wrong with me?" he said aloud, shaking his head. "I sound so dramatic."

At any rate, Sirius's words were worth contemplating. He stepped back inside the portrait hole to find the common room empty. Frowning, he stood frozen in thought. Should he act on his instincts tonight, or give them both some time to think things through? He shook his head and decided against the second option; sometimes too much time for thinking was a bad thing. So he walked up the stairs to the Head Girl's quarters and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Lily's voice called through the door. James stepped inside to find the redhead lying beneath her duvet with the lamp on her side table on, still reading her AT book. She looked up momentarily when he entered, then glanced quickly back to the book. "Oh, hello."

Walking deliberately over to the side of her bed, he sat down and took the book out of her hands. She looked up at him questioningly.

"Can I help—?" she started to say, but before she could finish he was leaning down and placing his lips on hers. At first they were both too surprised to do anything. James pulled away quickly.

"What was that for?" she whispered, touching the tips of her fingers to her lips.

He shrugged. He hadn't really been expecting to do something quite _that_ drastic. "Does there have to be a reason?"

"I just thought there might have been a particular reason you came in my room to kiss me, that's all."

"Nope, no particular reason."

There was an awkward pause, and then James got off the bed. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He walked over to the door that led into the bathroom, mentally kicking himself for doing that without thinking first.

"Hey P—James?"

"Hmm?" He stopped; his hand hovered above the doorknob.

He heard a rustling noise, and then felt a finger tapping his shoulder. He turned around and found her standing there in front of him. Her green eyes stared up into his own eyes, mesmerizing him.

"You don't need a reason to come in my room and kiss me," she whispered, continuing to stare up into his eyes unblinkingly.

He raised an eyebrow, barely daring to hope. "Oh? I thought you hated me or something."

She shook her head. "No, I don't hate you. If I hated you, would I have let you kiss me?" When he shrugged and didn't reply, she took a deep breath. "Okay then. If I hated you, would I do this?"

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, surprising them both with the urgency of the kiss. Once again, for a moment neither of them really knew how to react, but then James wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, and she put her hands on his shoulders. The kiss was tantalizingly slow in her opinion; she was used to the hot, demanding kisses from Brady. But this kiss she was sharing with James was…achingly slow, and somehow it meant more to her than all of the kisses she'd had with Brady. Her body craved more from this kiss, but at the moment he seemed to be content with just kissing. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip, but he didn't open his mouth. This surprised her.

He pulled away first. "Look, Evans…I can't do this right now. I—you're just too skinny. Maybe if you gain a few pounds I might reconsider, but right now…I dunno."

She blinked. "Excuse me?" she said, taken aback.

He shrugged. "Sorry. You're just too skinny," he repeated, and opened the door to the joint bathroom, crossed the tiled floor and stepped into his own room.

She felt like bursting into tears. First she felt too fat, and now too skinny? Wasn't there a happy medium? There _had_ to be a compromise…didn't there? She crawled back into bed, but she couldn't sleep. She fought with herself for hours over it. Maybe she should just try and gain more weight, like James suggested. It would make the Healers happier. But she also didn't want to be fat. But she _really_ wanted to be with James.

Finally, thoroughly fed up with arguing with herself and pissed off at James for making herself feel this way, she rolled out of bed, stormed through the bathroom, yanked open the door leading into his bedroom, walked over to his bed, pulled off his duvet and glared down at him. He sleepily rubbed his eyes and peered up at her, reaching out to grab his glasses from his bedside table.

"Where the hell do you get off telling me to 'gain some weight' before you'll be with me?" she demanded. He stared up blankly at her. "I mean, honestly! Can't you just accept me for who I am?"

"I—"

"I'm not done yet!" she shouted. "If you really wanted to be with me, you wouldn't care what I looked like or how much I weighed or anything like that! You'd just want to be with me for who I was, not what I look like!"

He smiled calmly up at her. "Exactly," he said.

"I—wait, what?" she asked, confused.

"Evans, I don't care what you look like or what you weigh," he said, sitting up and looking into her eyes. "I could have told you that a million times, but I knew that you wouldn't believe it unless I made you believe it. I knew you'd get pissed at me for judging you by your size, and then you'd realize that if a guy won't be with you because of something stupid like that, he wasn't worth it."

She frowned. "That was a dirty trick," she said after a moment. "But I guess you're right."

He shrugged and remained silent.

"So…where does that leave us?" she asked quietly, shifting her feet.

"I dunno. Where do you want it to leave us?" he asked.

She shrugged, too. "Well, that kiss was a nice start."

* * *

A/N: In case you didn't notice (although I'm sure you did lol) I put the lyrics to the song I named the chapter after at the beginning. I went back and did that with all the previous chapters as well...one of these I'll go back and edit all the chapters, too, to get rid of the mistakes in them and such, because there are several pretty obvious mistakes (at least they're obvious to me lol). For now, I'd just like to thank all of you lovely, lovely reviewers! You guys rock my socks! 


	14. A Child Believes

**Chapter 14 A Child Believes**

_Told that you're worthless from five years old_

_Is it part of your destiny?_

_He's standing next to me_

_I cannot breathe_

_When will I have the guts to leave?_

_Run away from all that is sacred,_

_Escaping the shadows over me_

_Run away_

_You'll never make it_

_It's all that a child believes_

…_I only wanted the simple things like being told you were loved_

_He's still supporting me_

_But where's the faith?_

_Looking in his eyes I sense his hate_

_I never cry for sadness_

_I cut off from the pain_

_I won't forget your madness_

**A Child Believes by Amanda Ghost**

A/N: Just a little note to start off the chapter: This chapter is going to get a little...ahem graphic, but nothing _too_ bad hopefully. I just thought I'd give you all fair warning.

Lily awoke before the sun rose, as was usual. She was slightly confused, however, because she seemed to recall that her bed was on the opposite side of her room than where she was now. She looked around and realized with a start that she was in James's room, not hers. And she wasn't just in his room; she was in his bed, lying next to him, her hand on his bare chest. She blinked a few times and tried to remember what had happened last night. Apparently she had just slept with him, without actually _sleeping_ with him. She rolled onto her side and watched his chest rise and fall in the rhythm of sleep and smiled.

She checked the clock on his bedside table and almost groaned. It was only 2 AM. There was still four hours until she even really had to think about getting up and ready for classes. She curled up against James's warm body and tried to go back to sleep, but it was impossible. So she simply cuddled up against the warm body next to her and breathed, her mind blessedly blank.

A few minutes later, James began to stir from sleep as well. His eyes flickered open and came to settle on her face. He smiled sleepily at her, and she timidly smiled back.

"Hello there," he whispered.

"Hi."

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah, for the four hours I actually slept," she replied. "It's only 2 o'clock in the morning."

He groaned. "Way too early to be awake then," he observed, stretching out on the large bed. "Why _are_ you awake, anyway?"

"I'm almost always awake this early," she answered. "Why are _you_ awake?"

"Because it's kind of hard to sleep when someone's staring at you," he said, but reached over to kiss her to let her know he wasn't angry.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I just don't really remember falling asleep in your bed, that's all."

He nodded. "You were pretty exhausted."

"It was hard to sleep at the hospital," she admitted, "so I didn't really get a lot of sleep there. But I slept really well last night, surprisingly enough."

"Hmm. Wait, what do you mean, 'surprisingly enough'?"

"Well, I just didn't think we were going to do much sleeping, that's all," she replied coyly.

He raised an eyebrow in interest. "And just what did you think we were going to be doing, Miss Evans?"

"I think you can guess." She ran her fingers up and down his bare chest, her eyes never leaving his.

"How do you know we didn't do that already? You say you don't remember last night, right?"

"Trust me. I would have remembered that."

He grinned and kissed her again, placing a hand at the back of her neck. Once again the kiss was slow and deliberate, and once again when she licked his lip, he kept his mouth closed, denying her tongue entrance. She frowned, but he continued to kiss her. Why wouldn't he let her in his mouth? She knew it wasn't because he was prude. His kisses drove her mad; they were _achingly_ slow, and left her wanting so much more that he seemed to deny her. Losing her patience, she bit his bottom lip in annoyance.

"Ow," he complained, pulling away from her mouth a little. "What was that for?"

"Why won't you let me in?" she asked, pouting.

"Because I want you to _need_ it, not just want it," he replied, smiling at her annoyance. "I want to show you what it's supposed to feel like."

She sighed. "But I _really_ want it," she whispered huskily, batting her eyelashes.

"Good."

"You're infuriating," she said, irritated that her charms seemed to have no effect on him.

"I know. But you love it."

"I know."

Their lips met again, and this time Lily was a little more patient with him, but not much. Soon enough she was begging entrance again, and again he denied her; when she licked his lip, he turned his head and began kissing a trail along her neck that had her gasping and turning her head for easier access. He kissed her neck, her jaw line, her cheek, her ear, her forehead—everywhere but her lips.

"Please, James," she begged, pushing her body against his as he kissed her neck again.

"What was that?" he asked slyly.

She felt like screaming in frustration; he was so annoying, and yet so intoxicating at the same time. She felt like pouncing on him, ripping off all his clothes, and demanding that he do the same; and yet, she also felt like jumping off the bed and leaving him until he decided to be nicer. She couldn't quite decide what she wanted to do, and it was _killing_ her. At last she decided that two could play his little game.

She acted like she was going to kiss him, but turned her head a second before their lips touched and began sucking and biting at his neck. She swung one leg over his side so she was sitting on his hips, and pressed all her weight against his pelvis. _Now let's see who won't open his mouth to me_, she thought wickedly as she heard him groan beneath her.

"Cheater," he said irritably.

She grinned. "You love it."

"I know."

Their lips seemed to magically find each other again, even though both of them were seemingly trying to avoid directly kissing each other. Lily accepted his slow kiss as patiently as she could, trying not to rush, but it was hard. She just wanted to have their tongues involved, wanted to be with him so badly, but he was being quite stubborn in making it go slowly. Even when she moved her hips in circular motion while pushing against him, he gritted his teeth and his mouth remained closed.

She was almost at the point of giving up when he started to undress her, pulling off her skirt and sliding it down her thighs along with her panties. Then he removed her tie from around her neck and tossed it to the floor along with her other garments, and moved on to the buttons of her blouse. He moved slowly, building up the anticipation, and she lay perfectly still for him. He slipped off her blouse simply sat for a moment, admiring her delicate form. She really was getting too skinny; he could probably count her ribs, and her hip bones jutted outwards, but he tried not to focus on that.

"What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a girl before?" she asked teasingly.

He shook his head. "Not one so beautiful," he answered, and dipped down to kiss her navel. Then he unhooked her bra, and it, too, went to join the rest of her clothing on the floor. "You are so beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

Abruptly she froze. Something clicked in her mind, and suddenly images were flashing in front of her eyes, and snippets of someone's voice, deep and masculine sounded in her ears: "_You're so beautiful…such pretty hair…your fair skin and lovely eyes…that's my girl…_my _little girl…_"

She jumped off the bed, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. James was watching her in concern. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I-I can't," she whispered, shaking her head and scooping up her clothes. "I can't," she repeated, louder this time, and rushed out the door.

* * *

"I'm really worried about Lily," James said to Sirius, Remus and Nicole later at lunch. "I haven't seen her all day. She wasn't at breakfast or in Potions, and now she's not at lunch, either. I don't know what happened."

"Do you think she's alright?" Nicole asked worriedly. "I mean, you don't think she'd…well…" She trailed off, unable to finish.

"Everything was going so well," James continued, running a hand through his hair and frowning. "Maybe I should go look for her."

"Look for who?" Monica asked sweetly, sitting gracefully in the empty seat next to Remus and across from James. Kristi and Genevieve followed suit and took the seats around her.

"None of your business," Sirius said roughly, glaring at the brunette.

"Now that's not very polite," Monica said, though she hardly turned to look at Sirius. "I'm just trying to be nice here."

"Well, don't," James, also glaring, said harshly.

"Well, if you don't want to know where she is then…" Kristi said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. "I guess we'll just leave then." The three girls made a move to stand and leave the table, but James reached out and grabbed Kristi's arm.

"What do you mean? You know where Lily is?" he asked despite himself.

The petite blonde smirked. "Actually, I do," she said mysteriously.

"Where?" he demanded. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs, in the girl's lavatory," the girl replied indifferently. "She's been up there for hours now, just crying her little eyes out. Won't talk to anyone, either, not that _I _tried, of course…but a few other girls have tried talking, and she refuses. She won't even come out of the stall. Even Moaning Myrtle isn't so unsociable."

"What floor?" Sirius demanded to know.

Kristi shook her wrist from James's grip and turned to look at the other boy. "Fourth." Then she, Monica, and Genevieve got up and left.

"Do you think they're telling the truth?" Remus asked.

"Kristi wouldn't lie," Nicole said as she too stood up from the table. "Even about Lily."

"We're going with you," James and Sirius said at once.

"Not inside the lavatory you're not," Nicole protested. "You can just wait outside if you insist on coming."

"Fine," the three boys agreed grudgingly.

"Now you boys stay here," Nicole commanded when the four of them stood outside the fourth floor girl's lavatory. "I'll go and talk to her."

She stepped inside, and instantly heard sniffling coming from the last stall. She took a deep breath, pushing the black hair from her face, and walked to the end of the row of stalls. She knocked on the door.

"Lily? Lily, it's me, Nicole. Do you want to talk?" There was no answer, just more sniffing. "Come on, babe…you can tell me, whatever it is. Please, just talk to me."

"I can't." The voice was small and full of emotion.

"Yes you can," Nicole assured the other girl. "I'm here for you. You can tell me anything."

There was a clicking as the stall door unlocked, and Lily stepped out, her face blotchy and tearstained, and her eyes red and bloodshot. "I didn't even remember," she said softly, tears coursing down her face.

"Remember what?" Nicole asked gently.

"What he did to me," Lily choked, sniffling.

"Who, babe? Who did what to you?"

"My father," the redhead said quietly. "He--oh God. I didn't even remember until James and I—" She broke off.

"What did he do, Lily?" Nicole prodded, placing her hands on her friend's shoulders.

The redhead couldn't bring herself to say it; she shook her head. "I can't," she said, fresh tears popping into her eyes.

"Yes you can," Nicole encouraged. "It's just you and me here, babe. It's just you and me. You can tell me anything."

"He…he would…" Failing to find the right words, Lily gestured a few times, and started outright sobbing at the horrified look on Nicole's face.

"Oh, my God," Nicole whispered.

"Why wouldn't I remember that?" Lily wanted to know, trying uselessly to wipe away the tears. "Why couldn't I remember something like that? All the times I was with Brady, and I never…but with James, I…I dunno. It was different."

"Oh, sweetie, I don't know either," the other girl said, hugging the redhead tightly.

"All those times h-he beat me unconscious and then—" Lily pulled away from the embrace, ran back into the stall, and was violently sick into the toilet. Nicole followed to hold back the girl's hair, rubbing her back and whispering comforting phrases while the redhead was heaving and coughing up blood.

"Oh, my God!" Nicole exclaimed when she saw the blood.

Lily sat back and wiped her bloody lips on a bit of toilet paper. "It's okay," she whispered harshly. "It happens sometimes…when I'm throwing up or exercising, but it's not a big deal. It's okay, really."

Nicole decided to let this issue go for now, knowing that now was not a good time to bring it up. Instead she sat down next to her friend and wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

"I bet James hates me," Lily said after a moment of silence. "He probably thinks I'm prude or something."

"Don't be ridiculous," Nicole responded. "Of course he doesn't hate you, or think you're prude. He's really, really worried about you, babe."

"What am I supposed to tell him?"

Nicole shrugged. "I dunno. That's up to you. I'm certainly not going to tell him anything, unless you want me to tell him for you. But if you don't want anyone else to know, then they won't—not unless you want them to know. Okay?"

"Thanks, Nicole." The redhead managed to produce a small smile. "You are the best friend I've ever needed or had."

"Glad to hear I can help you," the other girl said, smiling and pushing her hair out of her face again. "Now come on. We can't sit in here forever; my butt's starting to hurt from sitting on this stone floor."


	15. Naked

**Chapter 15 Naked**

_I wake up in the morning_

_Put on my face_

_The one that's gunna get me through another day_

_Doesn't really matter_

_How I feel inside_

…_Then you came around me_

_The walls just disappeared_

_Nothing to surround me, keep me from my fears_

_I'm unprotected_

…_You see right through me_

_I can't hide_

_I'm naked around you_

**Naked by Avril Lavigne**

"Take your seats, please," McGonagall said as the students made their way inside the classroom for Advanced Transfiguration later that day. "Now, if you will please take out the homework I assigned over the break, we'll go over it. Did anyone have any questions?"

A Ravenclaw boy put his hand in the air, but Lily didn't hear the question he asked, because suddenly a very annoying voice was whispering behind her.

"I have a question for you, Evans," Monica sneered. "What happened at the Potters' Christmas party? I heard there was a bit of a problem involving you and Brady Johnson. Something about you two having sex in a broom closet?"

The redhead gritted her teeth and didn't respond.

"Personally, I wasn't the least bit surprised," Monica continued. "I always knew you were a whore. I tried to tell everyone early on, but no one believed me. I guess they know now, though."

"I didn't have sex with anyone in a broom closet, _Reed_," the redhead whispered harshly without turning around. She tried focusing on what McGonagall was saying, but it was hard.

"Right, of course you didn't," the brunette said mockingly, snickering with Genevieve.

"Shut _up_."

"You know what I heard, Monica?" Genevieve said to the brunette, completely ignoring the redhead. "I heard there was some big scandal where Evans had to be rushed to the hospital. Alcohol poisoning or something like that."

"You weren't even _at_ the party," Lily snapped, whirling around to face the girls behind her. "Therefore you have no idea what you're talking about. So just shut up!"

"Miss Evans, is there a problem?" McGonagall asked sharply from the front of the room, and Lily turned back around after glaring one last time at the girls.

"No, professor, there's no problem."

"Then be quiet and pay attention," McGonagall said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alcohol poisoning, huh?" Monica whispered to Genevieve a little while later. "I never would have guessed."

The blonde shrugged. "That's what I heard, anyway. I'm not sure, of course, but it's entirely possible. The whole party stopped because of it!"

"Wow, Evans, you must have felt _awful_ for ruining everyone's Christmas!"

Lily chose to remain silent, trying not to let the words get to her. _It's okay_, she thought. _You didn't ruin anyone's Christmas. James even told you that you didn't. He said his parents hoped you were all right, that's all. You didn't ruin anything. Don't listen to them._

For a while the girls remained silent, letting the whole thing go, to Lily's great relief. She was able to pay attention and take notes and even answer some questions. She had almost forgotten the Haters were sitting behind her at all until there was a disturbance at the window at the front of the classroom. An owl was pecking at the glass, trying to get in. McGonagall stopped lecturing to open the window. The owl flew in and settled on Lily's desk, ruffling its feathers. It thrust its leg out at her, revealing a letter tied there with a bit of string.

Everyone in the classroom was staring at the redhead, whose cheeks were going quite red as well. McGonagall looked _furious_. "Excuse _me_, Miss Evans," she said, her voice rising, "for interrupting your precious time with my lecture!"

"I'm terribly sorry," Lily said, blushing even more as the class erupted into laughter as the redhead fumbled to untie the note. The owl was pecking at her fingers, upset at the rough treatment it was receiving. By the time the note was finally off the owl's leg, Lily's fingers were bloody and bruised from the owl's sharp beak. She shooed it off her desk, and it flew back out the open window. Lily stuffed the note into her robes, apologizing profusely for the interruption.

"One more and I'll have to ask you to leave," McGonagall warned sternly before returning to her lecture.

"Who's the letter from, Evans?" Genevieve asked.

"Probably her parents, telling her not to come home anymore," Monica said. "Or maybe the Ministry, telling her that she's about to be arrested for under-aged drinking and just generally being a slut."

"Which is it, Evans?" Genevieve prodded. "The Ministry or your poor, pathetic parents?"

"Shut up," Lily whispered harshly, trembling with the effort of trying to reign in her short temper. She knew her face was red again, this time from anger rather than embarrassment.

"Ooh, getting a bit testy again, aren't we?" Monica jeered.

"Careful, Monica," Genevieve said mockingly, "you wouldn't want to make the poor little redhead angry, now would you? She might—gasp—give you detention!"

"Oh, no! Not detention!" Monica gasped dramatically. Then the two girls burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'll give you both a lot more than detention if you don't shut your mouths right now," Lily hissed.

But this statement did not have the desired effect. They simply giggled even harder. The sound of their laughter echoed in her head, bouncing around in her skull until her head began to ache. Still, she tried her best to ignore them. _Don't react, and they'll stop_, she told herself. _Just don't react_.

"Honestly, I think I might have committed suicide if you were _my_ child," Monica remarked, tugging on a strand of Lily's fiery hair. "I would have been horrified to know that I created _that_. Wouldn't you, Genevieve?"

"Oh, most definitely. I would have put her up for adoption straight away," the blonde replied, nodding seriously. "I don't know how her parents have managed with her for so long."

"I think they should be given a medal or something," Monica agreed. "Personally, I wouldn't have even bothered with adoption. Not with _that_ face. No one would take her. I'd probably just leave her in a Dumpster on an abandoned street corner somewhere."

Lily was gripping the sides of her chair so hard that her knuckles were white. _Don't react. Don't react. Don't react._

"Seriously though," Genevieve continued, "I can't imagine being her, either. Being so alone all the time, despised by everyone around me, hated and worthless. My God, I'd probably kill myself."

"Hey, Evans, there's an idea," Monica said cruelly. "Why don't you do the world a favour and just die already? The world would be better off without you. I mean, really. What's the world with one less Mudblood in it?"

Something broke inside of the redhead. She stood up so fast her chair was knocked over backwards. McGonagall whirled around from the chalkboard, but Lily had already stepped around the side of the desk behind her and pulled Monica up by the front of her robes. Then she brought back her fist and swung it straight into the brunette's face with such force that the girl's nose was broken instantly. Lily enjoyed the sickening crunch as her knuckles connected with the girl's face. Blood poured from Monica's broken nose, staining her blouse and tie, and she fell into a crumpled heap on the floor, howling in pain.

"Miss Evans!" McGonagall screeched, horrified. But Lily didn't move; she simply stood over the brunette with an insane smile of satisfaction glued to her face as the other girl writhed on the floor in agony. "MISS EVANS!"

The redhead finally turned to look at the professor; the creepy smile was still on her lips; her eyes were glittering with a bit of madness. "Yes, Professor McGonagall?" she asked calmly.

"MY OFFICE, NOW!" McGonagall shouted, pointing out the door. The redhead picked up her things and left the classroom without a fuss. "Miss Stone, please escort Miss Reed to the hospital wing. The rest of you, class is dismissed early." And she stormed out of the classroom after the redhead.

Nicole went over and helped Monica to her feet, a little roughly. "Sirius, would you mind taking my stuff with you to the library? I'll meet you guys down there after I drop _this_ off at the hospital wing."

"Did you see that, Nikki? Did you see what she did to my face?" Monica wheezed as they climbed the stairs.

"Yes, I saw. I hope it hurt," Nicole said curtly. "I heard what you and Genevieve told her. You got what you deserved!"

"Oh, so now you're on her side?" Monica asked incredulously.

"Yes, Monica, I am! You guys are terrible, terrible people, and I can't believe I didn't realize that before now!" And she turned and walked the other direction, leaving the bleeding brunette to escort _herself_ up to the hospital wing.

"Miss Evans, I was absolutely appalled at your behaviour in my classroom today," McGonagall was saying to Lily in the teacher's office. "Hitting another student! What has gotten into you?"

The redhead said nothing, just sat there with her head lowered, not meeting the professor's eyes.

"It's the first day back from break, and this is the last thing I expected from you, of all people! I am _very_ disappointed in you. As Head Girl of this school, you are expected to be a good role model. The other students look up to you as an example. Your behaviour today was far less than exemplary, and very shocking and uncalled for. What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

"Nothing, professor," the redhead said softly. "I don't expect you to understand why I did it, as long as you don't expect me to explain it to you. I'm aware that what I did was very wrong, and most definitely didn't set a good example, but I'm not sorry for it."

Professor McGonagall sighed and took off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She wiped her glasses on her robes and put them back on her face. "Miss Evans, is there anything you want to tell me about your home life, perhaps? I assure you that you can trust me completely."

"My home life is none of your business!" Lily snapped, looking up suddenly. Her cheeks burning, she added, "Professor."

"As you wish," McGonagall said, sighing again. "However, I am going to have to punish you."

"I understand."

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

That night at dinner, Lily decided to read the letter that had been sitting in her pocket for hours now.

_'You will come home immediately, you worthless little bitch. If you don't come home, I'll come and get you. Do you understand me? You have 1 week to pack your crap and come home. If you're not home in a week, I will be there to get you. And I can assure you, it won't be a happy visit.'_

Her heart sped up. The note wasn't signed, but it wasn't exactly hard to figure out who it was from. She read it over and over again. It was definitely in her father's handwriting. One week. Could he really come here and take her away? Just the thought of it being possible made her feel sick to her stomach. After all the memories that had started to resurface after she had forced herself to bury them…after everything she'd been through, she just couldn't go home. Not now.

Stuffing the letter back into her robes, she tried not to think about it. It was no use fretting over it right now. She had a week to think it through. She was fairly certain that her father couldn't possibly come for her; for one thing, he didn't even know where Hogwarts was, let alone how to get there. With this realization she started to feel a bit better. Slowly she reached for her fork and began pushing her mashed potatoes around on her plate. It did not look the least bit appetizing, nor did any of the other food on the table. Yet her fellow classmates were gobbling it down like starving pigs. It was disgusting, how they were so willingly to give in to hunger. Had they no control over themselves? Had they no pride?

_At least I'm still strong_, she thought proudly, discreetly reaching under her robes to feel her perfectly flat stomach and her bony ribs. She was on her way to being beautiful. Some day she'd get there, and then everyone would feel sorry for the way they treated her now. _One day they'll see. One day._

"Do you fancy a walk around the lake with me?" James interrupted her thoughts, taking up the empty seat next to her. "I promise not to keep you out very long, since I'm sure you'll want to be catching up on your homework."

"I suppose a short walk in the fresh air might do me some good," she answered, pushing the plate of poison away from her. Any excuse not to eat…

"So what was that letter all about?" he asked as the pair set out across the snowy grounds. "I mean, if you don't want to tell me, I understand, I just sort of wanted to—"

"It's okay to ask, you know," she interjected. "I promise not to bite your head off."

"Actually, I was more concerned about you breaking my nose," he quipped without missing a beat. She couldn't help but smile. "But seriously."

Lily watched her breath come out in little white clouds. "The letter was from my father. He wants me to go home, James. He's given me a week to pack and leave. If I'm not there in a week, he's going to come here to fetch me."

"You can't be serious!" James blurted. "I mean, he can't do that, can he? Can he actually _force_ you to leave Hogwarts?"

"I don't know."

It began to snow gently, the flakes piling up on their cloaks and heads. They walked together in silence toward the frozen lake, each afraid to say what was on their minds.

Finally Lily broke the silence with a little sniffle. "I don't want to leave Hogwarts," she said softly, staring out across the massive expanse of the lake. "I'll miss out on so much…"

It was hard to imagine that this same girl standing here before him had been through so much in her lifetime. But at the same time, there was a certain air of sadness that proved otherwise.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked after a moment.

She shrugged. "I haven't decided. Nothing, I guess. I don't even know if he can really force me to leave. So…until then, I suppose I just carry on like everything's fine."

"Why do you do that?" he asked suddenly.

She turned to look at him, blinking. "Do what?"

"Hide your emotions like that," he replied, looking her up and down. "You always act like everything's fine. You could have the worst day of your life and you never even frown about it. It's like you're constantly wearing a mask or something."

"I don't know," she said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why are you so pompous?"

"Don't change the subject, Evans. Even when you were in the hospital you didn't seem very upset. I've only seen you truly upset twice; the other times were just masks."

"I have emotions!" she said huffily.

"I didn't say you didn't have them. I said you always hide your real emotions behind false ones. You wear anger like a mask, and same with your smiles. I have never, ever _once_ seen you truly happy."

"I smile all the time!"

"Yeah, to cover up what you're _really_ feeling." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What I'm trying to say is that it's okay to let loose once in a while. You don't have to hide your real emotions all the time. You can't keep bottling up your feelings, or else one day you're just going to explode."

"Oh great, another pep talk," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"This isn't a pep talk," James said seriously. "I'm only trying to help—"

"Well stop!" she snapped, loosing her patience. "Okay? I don't need your little motivational speeches, and I don't need help."

"Yes you do! You're killing yourself, and you can't even see—"

"I'm getting better!"

"No, you're not," he said quietly. "You're just getting better at lying and hiding things."

"Shut up, Potter!" she shouted, stepping away from him. "What is with you and saving people? Do you think you're some goddamn hero or something? Do you think you're the world's saviour? Well guess what? YOU'RE NOT! You're just some pathetic boy with a messiah complex, that's what _I_ think."

She turned on her heel as if to leave, but he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm. She whipped around and glared. "Don't touch me," she said harshly, pulling her arm out of his grip. "Just leave me the hell alone!"

He was completely confused. "But…I thought…I mean, we kissed!"

She rolled her eyes. "So what? Are you completely _daft_, Potter? I was desperate for attention, okay? I was lonely and needed to be reassured that someone still cared about me. But I'm over that. I've realized that I don't need anyone."

Then she spun back around and stormed off. He watched her figure disappear in the flurries of snow.

She was lying, that he knew for sure…but was it possible for a lie to make his heart hurt like this?

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this time. I've just been really, really busy lately. Hopefully I'll be able to update again a bit sooner next time! 


	16. Face Down

**Chapter 16 Face Down**

_Hey girl you know you drive me crazy_

…_still I'll never understand why you hang around_

_I see what's going down_

_Cover up with make up in the mirror_

_Tell yourself it's never going to happen again_

_You cry alone and then he swears he loves you_

_Do you feel like a man when you push her around?_

_Do you feel better now, as she falls to the ground?_

…_Face down in the dirt she said, "This doesn't hurt."_

**Face Down by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus**

The next morning when Lily went down to the joint common room after getting ready for school, she found James standing directly in front of the portrait hole, blocking the exit. He was waiting for her. She glared at him.

"Excuse me," she said as politely as she could manage. It was more of a rough command, however. "Could you move, please? You're kind of in the way."

He stared directly into her eyes. "I know you're mad at me for trying to help you," he stated simply. "But that doesn't mean that I'm going to back off. I sincerely believe you need help. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me to leave you alone or how many times you insult me."

"That's great. Say, maybe you could start helping me by getting out of my way," she said in a mockingly cheerful voice, smiling without humour or even a trace of amusement.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," he said, inclining his head in her direction. "That smile, right there. You're smiling, but it means _nothing_. There's nothing behind it, no happiness or even cruelness, really. It's just…there."

"Seriously, Potter, get out of my way."

"I swear to you, Lily Evans, that no matter what I'm—"

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" she shouted. "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY TO ME, OKAY? LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"No can do, love," he said, crossing his arms. "I already told you: no matter how many times you tell me to leave you alone, I'm not going to do it."

"You are an insufferable, arrogant prat! I hope you realize that! I think I may have finally figured it all out. I have a theory about you, Potter."

"Oh yeah?" he asked despite himself. It might be interesting to see what she had to say. "What's that?"

"I think your parents work all the time to get away from you. It's not really for the money at all. If they're at work they don't have to be around you. With this lack of attention from your parents, you act out here at school in the form of this idiotic Marauder group. You're just trying to get attention. It's quite sad, actually. I think you need to develop a more healthy relationship with your parents; then all your problems will be solved."

"What the hell do you know about my parents?" he asked dangerously, taking a step closer to her. A shadow fell across his face, and his dark eyes flashed behind his glasses. "What would you know about a healthy family relationship, anyway? You call being beaten up by your father and completely ignored by your mother a healthy relationship? Well in that case, I'm rather glad I don't have a 'healthy relationship' with _my_ parents."

He saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes, but then it was gone again. "Thank you," she said, and stepped around him and out of the portrait hole, leaving him alone to seethe.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

A few days later at lunch Lily sat at the far end of the table, away from Nicole and the Marauders. She took out the letter from her father and once again read it a few times, growing more and more nauseous each time. Could he really do this to her? Could he legally remove her from the only place she really felt safe? She had no way of truly knowing, without directly asking a teacher, and she didn't want to do that. But that meant she really had no other choice than to sit and wait for something to happen.

"You know, Evans, I've come to my own little realization." A voice drug her out of her reverie and back into the real world, where James Potter was coming to sit down next to her. To her surprise, he was smiling at her, as if they hadn't had a huge argument a few days ago. "I've realized that you are trying to do everything in your power to push those of us who actually give a damn about you out of your life, that way it won't hurt as much if your dad _does_ come to get you. You think that if we end up hating you, you won't have to feel bad that you left."

"Oh, please, Potter." The redhead rolled her eyes. "That's a very lame explanation, when I've already given you the perfect reason. The truth! I was desperate, and you just can't cope with that, can you? The fact that I only crawled to you out of desperation just burns you up inside, doesn't it?"

"See? There you go again, trying to get me to get angry with you," James said pleasantly, taking up the empty seat beside her. "Well, I've got news for you, Miss Evans. It's not going to work. I've just become so caught up in this soap opera that is your life that I can't just walk away now. I've got to see the ending, you know? Actually, all of us have become quite addicted to you."

To the redhead's absolute horror, the rest of the Marauders and Nicole came to sit all around her, smiling cheerfully.

"I have to admit, those comments about my parents pissed me off," James continued. "I almost didn't want to help you anymore, but then I realized what you were _really_ doing. What a clever girl!"

Lily opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly someone snatched the letter off the corner of the table, and she whirled around to face Genevieve and Kristi. The latter waved the letter in front of the redhead's face. "Looking for something?" she asked.

"Give that back!"

"I don't think we will," Genevieve said. "You hurt Monica pretty bad, you know. You should apologize, and we might give the letter back."

"That bitch got what she deserved," Lily snapped, reached out to grab the letter, but Kristi pulled it away.

"Maybe we should read the little note aloud, should we Kristi?"

"Just give it back to her," Nicole said tiredly, rubbing her temples. "Stop being so immature."

But the girls completely ignored their former friend, and Kristi began to read aloud. "_You will come home immediately_," the girl read loudly, dancing away from the redhead's hands.

"GIVE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD—" Lily shouted, chasing after the blond who had the letter.

"Ooh this next bit's not very nice at all," Kristi said, laughing cruelly. "_You worthless little—"_ Suddenly she stopped and let out an agonizing scream; the note had suddenly burst into flames, but Kristi couldn't seem to let it go.

Lily stood directly in front of the blonde girl but she didn't quite look like the redhead they knew anymore. Her eyes were completely white, and her hair flew around her face and shoulders like a curtain of fire. There was an eerie look of calmness on her face. "I said, give it back," she whispered dangerously.

Then Albus Dumbledore was there, grabbing hold of the redhead's shoulders and shaking her. Suddenly Lily blinked, and when her eyes opened they were their normal green colour, and her hair fell back to her shoulders. She stumbled backwards a few steps, touching her temple with one hand. What was left of the letter fell to a pile of ash on the floor, followed quickly by Kristi, who was moaning and sobbing, holding her hands out in front of her. They were burned quite badly.

"What happened?" the redhead asked, finally gaining her balance back. The entire population of Hogwarts stared at her, their faces a mixture between awe and terror.

"Miss Evans, I think it would be best if you come with me," Dumbledore said quietly. "Minerva, would you please help Miss Dayton up to see Madam Pomfrey?"

He led the way from the Great Hall, followed by a confused looking redhead. The two walked in silence up to the old wizard's office.

"I really—I mean, I dunno what happened," Lily blurted after they had stepped inside the office. The pictures old the previous headmaster's glared down at her. "I don't understand, Headmaster, I'm—"

"Calm down, Miss Evans," Dumbledore interjected evenly. "I didn't call you in here because you're in trouble. Everyone looses control of their powers at some point or another in their lives. I called you here in case you wanted to talk."

"A-about what, sir?" She swallowed, trying to remain calm.

"About anything you might wish to talk about," the headmaster replied, regarding her through those half-moon specs. "I've been noticing some changes in you this year. I know you're under a lot of stress, and I just wanted to make it clear that my door is always open if you _ever_ need to speak with me, about anything at all."

The redhead took a moment to ponder this. _I bet if I told Dumbledore about that letter, he'd know what to do_, she thought. After all, it was growing closer to the deadline that had been set for her. She hesitated a moment longer before finally answering carefully, "Well, thanks for the offer, professor, but there's really nothing to talk about."

The old man inclined his head slightly, still smiling. "Very well, Miss Evans. You may return to the Great Hall, if you so wish."

"Yes, sir."

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

"There you are!" Nicole exclaimed when the redhead finally re-entered the Great Hall. "So what happened?"

"Oh, you know," the redhead replied vaguely. "I've got two weeks detention with Slughorn."

"Well, that's depressing," Nicole said, frowning. "That's a lot of detentions."

"I've attacked two students, Nicole. What did you expect them to do? Let it slide with a few points deducted? I don't think so."

Nicole opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment the doors to the hall swung open with such force that they hit the walls behind them. Everyone turned to stare at the figure standing in the doorway. James's jaw dropped, and he turned to see that Lily's face had completely drained of all colour and her eyes had grown to the size of tennis balls. She shrank back from the shadow, horrified.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Oh my God, he's early."

"What?" Nicole whispered back. "Who is that?"

The redhead started to answer, "It's my father," but was cut off.

"Where is she?!"

"Oh God, he's drunk, too." She buried her face in her hands, and when she stood up and put her hands at her side, James saw that she had slipped back into her emotionless mask. She walked purposefully toward her father.

"Hello, Daddy," she said timidly, trying to usher him out of the hall without causing much more of a scene. Her father looked so out of place there in the entrance hall, it was actually a little ridiculous.

"You didn't come home for Christmas," Dean slurred.

"I left you a note," Lily lied quickly. "Didn't you see it? I said I was spending the rest of the break with Nicole Stone, a girl from my year. She lives a lot closer to King's Cross, and she's got a car so she could take me places and I wouldn't have to bother you, Daddy—"

"Shut up! Don't make excuses!"

He brought his hand back and swung out at her, and she didn't bother trying to get out of the way. Instead she simply stood there and closed her eyes, waiting for the blow to come. She received the punch to the side of her face, with enough force to make her stumble back a few steps; black spots dance in front of her eyes. She couldn't help but let a little whimper escape from her throat, but otherwise she didn't acknowledge the pain.

She heard an intake of breath from the man in front of her. "Now get your bags. We're leaving."

She lifted her head, and for the first time in her life, she defied her father. "No."

Dean blinked a few times. "What? What did you just say?"

"I said no. I'm not going any where."

"Oh yes you are! You are coming home with me—"

"NO!" she screamed, loosing control of her anger for a moment. She took a breath and tried to calm down. "I'm not going home, _Dad._ I don't have a home with you anymore."

"You don't have a choice!" her father shouted back. The shouting, of course, prompted a crowd of students to suddenly decide to leave the Great Hall to watch the argument.

At this time, also, Professor Dumbledore came strolling down the stairs. "Is there a problem here?" he asked politely as he came to join the redhead and her father in the entrance hall. McGonagall managed to shoo the rest of the students back inside the Great Hall, but somehow James, Sirius, Remus, Peter and Nicole had managed to avoid her.

"Yes!" both redhead and drunk said together, and then turned to glare at each other.

Dean continued, "My _daughter_ is refusing—"

"I'm not leaving!" Lily interrupted loudly. "You're damn right I'm refusing!"

"Miss Evans, please remain calm," Dumbledore said evenly.

"How can I remain calm?" she wanted to know. "He's trying to take me away from here. Tell him he can't do that, professor." There was an uncomfortable silence. Lily added confidently, turning to look at the headmaster, "Go on, Professor Dumbledore, and tell him he can't do that. Tell him he can't force me to leave!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Evans."

The redhead stared openly at the old man, shocked. "What? What do you mean you can't do that? All you have to do is tell him that I'm not leaving."

"Miss Evans, I will remind you that you are not yet of legal age to be considered as an adult," Dumbledore said somewhat sadly, the twinkle gone from his eyes. "Therefore, your father has every right to remove you from the school."

Dean smirked. "You see? Now go and get your things. We're leaving."

"NO!" she shrieked. "NO! NO! I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU! I'M NOT LEAVING HOGWARTS!"

"YOU MOST CERTAINLY ARE, YOUNG LADY!" Dean yelled right back. He glared down at her, and in those eyes she saw the promise of a beating the likes of which she had never felt before waiting for her when they were alone. She stood her ground, however.

"Professor, you can't let him take her away!" Nicole exclaimed. "He'll—"

"This is none of your business!" Dean interrupted vehemently. "You just stay out of it and keep your mouth shut, little girl." He walked forward, glaring down at the black-haired girl. "You don't ever tell me how to raise my own daughter—"

"Don't you dare touch her!" Suddenly the redhead was standing in front of Nicole, protecting her friend from her own drunken father.

"I've had enough of your attitude!" Dean growled. He grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip, making her wince, and pulled her away from the group of her friends.

Dean and McGonagall then began shouting at each other, and in the midst of the confusion, Nicole went to the redhead's side. "I'm so sorry, babe," she said, weeping and trying to wrap her arms around her friend.

But to Nicole's shock, the redhead was furious. She pushed away from the other girl, glaring at her. "Don't touch me!" she shouted. "I'm fine! NOW EVERYONE JUST STOP!"

It went silent as everyone turned to look at the screaming redhead. "Stop fighting. It's not worth it. I'm leaving, alright? I'm going to go get my trunk, and then I'm gone."

She turned on her heel, her head held high in an attempt to retain some bit of dignity, and started up the stone stairs.

But James, even in his fit of rage and disbelief that there really was nothing they could do to get her to stay, wasn't fooled; he could see the pain in her eyes as she walked away.


	17. Drive Away

A/N: First of all, thanks to everyone who reviewed for last chapter. I really appreciate all of your reviews, and I hope you continue to review! Secondly, I wanted to address an issue that several people pointed out to me: How would Dean get to Hogwarts, since it is Unplottable and Muggles can't see it? I did realize this problem before I posted this fic, but I needed it to fit in with the plot. I know, it's not very realistic and I'm sorry if it irks anyone. Hopefully I'll be able to explain _part_ of it in a later chapter. Also, for those of you reviewers who got upset at the cliff-hanger last chapter…all I can really say is if you thought that was bad, I'm pretty sure you're going to hate me for chapter 19 lol.

* * *

**Chapter 17 Drive Away**

_If you ever see her, lying hurt_

_Don't just stare_

_Please get up, get up, get up get up and help her_

_And then check her pulse and give her air_

_And then listen to her breathing_

_Keep checking and checking and checking her heart_

_Don't drive away_

_Don't leave her this way_

_Don't drive away again_

**Drive Away by Gratitude**

Up in the joint Head quarters, the redhead began gathering up her possessions, stony-faced and refusing to cry. She tried not to think that this was probably going to be the last time she saw the large, circular room. She tried not to think about how furious Dean had been, or about the way he had slapped her in front of all those people downstairs. She simply didn't think at all; she moved around the room stiffly, as if she were set on autopilot or something. She folded the clothes in her closet and set them neatly in her trunk.

She was almost done packing when James showed up. When he walked in the portrait hole, Lily poked her head out of her room momentarily, before quickly going back to packing. For a moment James simply stood in the common room, frozen in indecision. What was he supposed to say?

She didn't look up when he came scrambling up her staircase. He leaned against the doorway, just watching her fold clothes for a few minutes in silence.

"You don't have to leave."

She sighed and spoke without looking at him. "I don't have a choice."

"Yes you do! We can't just let him take you away like this. Who knows what he'll do to you! We can fight back, we can—"

Suddenly she stopped folding. Then she slowly turned her head in his direction. He sucked in a breath when he saw the side of her face, and she snorted. Gesturing to the length of her face that was already starting to bruise, she said hollowly, "Do you see this, Potter? _This_ is what happens when you fight back. It's easier—and less painful—to just go along with it."

"But that's exactly my point! If you go back there, he'll just keep hitting you, and that's not right! I can't just sit back and watch that happen," he protested. "I can't watch you get hurt even more. His beatings are just going to get worse and worse until one day you're not going to be able to get up again. He's going to kill you, Evans."

"Thanks for your concern, Potter, but I don't have time for this right now. I have to pack."

"Why are you being so stubborn?" he exploded, finally loosing his patience. "I'm only trying to help you! You have to _make_ time for this. It's important!"

"How many times am I going to have to tell you to stop trying to save me?" she asked, but she didn't sound angry. She just sounded tired. "I'm really not worth the trouble."

"Well, _I_ think you are," he shot back, his face flushed from frustration. "I don't know why I think you're worth it, but I do. I mean, my life would be much less complicated if I didn't have to worry about you—"

"Then don't worry about me," she said simply.

"—but I can't help but worry for you," he continued, glaring at her for the interruption. "No one else worries about you, not even _you_. And everyone, even you, as annoying as you are, deserves to have someone care about them."

"Well, I don't care about you."

He shrugged. "I know. But that doesn't matter to me. You don't have to care about me; the important thing is that you always have someone to care about you. Whenever you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you, without judging, no matter what time, day or night."

"Well, thanks, but I don't need to talk to you," she said, "because—"

"—there's nothing to talk about," they finished together. James added, "Yeah, I know. You've told me before. But obviously there _is_ something to talk about; you just don't want to talk about it. But in case you ever _do_ want to talk about it, just know that I'm here for you."

"You're infuriating sometimes," she sighed. "Just know _that_. I mean, why do you care so much about a girl like me? We aren't even friends, and we never have been. We've been fighting since day one! You never used to care about me."

"I did too—"

"No, you didn't," she snapped. "Or need I remind you of all the times you asked me out in front of the whole school just to humiliate me? What about all the pranks you and your little friends have played on me?"

"I—well, I mean…" He trailed away, at a loss for words. "What about all the pranks you pulled back? All the hexes you put on me? And the times I really did want you to go out with me, you said no in front of the entire school, humiliating me, too!"

"Hey, I'll admit it. I didn't like you. Actually, I _still_ don't like you very well."

"What about at my Christmas party? You came, and you danced with me."

"I came to your party because you bought me a dress, and I couldn't have NOT shown up after that. I danced with you for the same reason. I was only being polite."

"Okay, okay, fine," he said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. Clearly this was going nowhere fast. "I get it. You don't care about me. And I never really cared about you, at least not as much as I do now. But what does that have to do with anything now?"

"I just don't understand how you could care so much about me now when before you didn't, that's all."

"Because now I know about—well, about everything, I guess. I know that your dad abuses you; I know that you're bulimic and have serious self-esteem issues. I know that everyone teases you and makes you feel like crap."

Her face went red; she had gone from tired and fed up to angry in a second. "Oh, so if you hadn't known all that stuff about me then you wouldn't have bothered trying to be my friend then, right? Is that it? Is that all I am to you, a fucking charity case?"

"No! That's not what I meant—" Why was it that he never seemed to be able to say the right things around her?

"Well that's how it sounds!" she shouted. "You wouldn't have even bothered with me if you didn't know how screwed up I was. That's really reassuring! You didn't care about me at all. You just think that you're going to fix me and move on, don't you? Well, guess what? I don't need you to fix me! I'm not broken! I don't have a problem!"

"YES YOU DO!" he shouted right back. "You're killing yourself for God's sake! You don't even see it!" He stormed inside the room, picked her up off the floor, and lifted up her blouse. "This is a problem, Evans! Look at this!"

He ran his fingers down her ribcage, which stuck out quite a bit. She tried to ignore the tingles that went racing down her spine at his touch. He ran his fingers over her stomach and hipbones, then lifted her shirt in the back and ran them down her protruding spine.

"You're too skinny," he whispered in her ear, and she shivered as more tingles showered down her spine. "It's putting too much pressure _here_," he added, placing one hand on her chest above her heart, which was beating rapidly from his touches. "You're going to die one way or another; it's just a matter of _how_. Either you do it by starving yourself, or your father does it by beating you. You have got to try and stop it."

She felt tears threatening to fall from her burning eyes, but she refused to let them. She knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier to hear. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do," she whispered, looking down. James had one hand placed at the small of her back, and the other was still positioned above her heart.

"I don't know what to do, either," he admitted, wanting so badly to just hold her. But he knew better than to do that; she might get scared away, or just pissed off. He never could tell with her.

"I don't want to go with him. I'm…I'm scared, James. I'm really scared," she admitted, her voice a barely audible whisper.

"I know you are." This time he didn't worry about upsetting her; he pulled up against his chest and wrapped his arms around her petite form. He placed his head on the top of hers, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. After a few moments, he loosened the embrace and went to step back, reluctant to let her go but at the same time scared she'd be angry, when suddenly her arms snaked around his waist, pulling him back to her.

"Don't leave me," she begged softly. "I don't want to be alone."

He held her more tightly. "Don't worry. I'll figure something out, some way to get you to stay here, with me. Okay?"

"What if you can't? What if he…does something tonight?"

"I don't know," he said painfully. He hated this feeling of helplessness; here he was, promising to help her when he had absolutely no idea what to do. "I'll figure something out, though. I just need some time. Try not to get him angry—I'm sure you know his triggers and what not, and I'll think about it."

She sniffed, knowing very well that Dean didn't always need an excuse to beat her; sometimes he just felt like it, without having her do anything at all. But her public display of defiance and disobedience definitely gave him a reason to punish her later.

"Hey," he said gently, putting a finger under her chin to lift her head. "Don't lose hope. I'm here for you, and I always will be, no matter how far apart we get, okay? Send me loads of letters."

A few tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, nodding her head at his words. "I don't know why you care, or how I ended up with you, but I'm so grateful."

"It's what I'm here for, love," he replied, kissing the top of her head. Then he stepped away, grabbed her trunk, and walked with her back to the entrance hall, where the others were all still standing around in a heavy silence.

Nicole and Lily embraced each other. Nicole was still weeping, and the redhead was trying hard not to burst into tears right there, too. _Stay strong,_ she thought, _don't give in and cry_.

"I'm so sorry babe," Nicole said through her tears, hiccupping a little. "I wish I could have done more for you."

"Don't be silly," the redhead scoffed gently. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for everything you've done. Thanks for being such a great friend."

"I'm going to miss you so much!" Nicole cried, sobbing into her friend's shoulder.

"We'll see each other again," Lily reassured the other girl confidently, even though she had no idea if she'd even survive that night. "Don't worry."

Nicole nodded and pulled away, pushing her bangs out of her eyes, and stepped back into Sirius's awaiting arms. Remus, Sirius and Peter simply said goodbye with no hugs or tears, though they did look sad to see her leave. And then it was James's turn.

"I'm not going to say goodbye," he declared loudly. She stared at him in shock. _After everything he just told me up in the common room, and he's not even going to say goodbye?_ She was quite confused. "You know why?" he added, staring at Dean, even though he was addressing the redhead. "Because I know I'll see you again, no matter what. I'll see you again."

Those words were almost too much for the redhead. She almost broke down in tears, but she wasn't given the chance. Dean snatched up her trunk in one hand and her elbow in the other, and made for the doors. When he opened them, a flurry of snow came swirling inside, and he pushed the girl outside in front of him, dragging her trunk behind him.

Nicole broke out of Sirius's arms and rushed to the doors, running down the icy castle steps to watch her friend being dragged away. The Marauders followed the hysterical girl, and Sirius held her back so that she couldn't go rushing after the redhead.

"Goodbye!" Lily called, waving. She hoped none of her friends could see the tears starting to trickle down her face. She plastered a smile on her face, trying to pretend that she was simply leaving on vacation, and that she'd be back soon.

It was a pointless lie, and it didn't make her feel any better about the situation, but smiling was easier than admitting the stabbing pain she _really_ felt.


	18. Overrated

**Chapter 18 Overrated**

_Worn out and faded_

_Weakness starts to show_

…_Washed up and hated_

…_Your shit is overrated_

**Overrated by Three Days Grace**

"Stop crying," Dean ordered his daughter as they drove through the dreary streets of London. "Crying is a sign of weakness, and no child of mine is going to be weak! Do you hear me? Are you even listening?"

"Yes, Daddy," Lily answered meekly, and wiped her eyes.

She sighed and placed her head on the cold glass of the car window, watching the snow fall onto the dirty streets of the city. She carefully kept her mind blank, because she knew that if she allowed herself to think about her friends that she would fall to pieces again. Dean couldn't stand crying; it annoyed him more than anything in the world.

She remembered once when her cousin Diana and husband Tom came over for Thanksgiving. Diana was Dean's sister Katherine's daughter. Lily had been only eight or nine at the time, and Petunia was probably twelve or thirteen. It had been around two years since Dean and Karen's divorce. Diana and Tom and just had a baby boy that they named Richard, and they'd thought Dean might want to see his new grandnephew. Apparently Richard had colic, and was quite fussy the entire length of the visit. At first Dean had been tolerant of the whining infant, but eventually he could handle no more and erupted.

"_SHUT THAT GODDAMNED BABY UP RIGHT NOW!" he'd shouted during dinner, which, of course, only made Richard cry even more. Lily had cowered in her chair at the table, terrified by her father's shouting._

_Diana had stared at Dean in shock, cradling her baby against her chest protectively. "He's just a baby, Uncle Dean; he can't help but cry! You shouldn't shout—"_

"_You shouldn't bring a crying baby over here for a holiday!" Dean had yelled right back. Diana and Tom took Richard and left the house then._

_Petunia pushed herself away from the table. "Great job, _Dad_," she'd said rudely. "What a way to completely _ruin_ Thanksgiving!" She stormed off to her room, leaving her little sister and father alone in the kitchen._

_It hadn't been long since the abuse had started, but Lily knew well enough what was about to happen. Dean pulled her up from the table and threw her down on the floor, and when she began whimpering, he'd kicked her._

"_Don't you dare cry, young lady!" he'd yelled, kicking her again. "Crying is for weak people, and my daughters aren't going to be seen as weak! Do you understand me?"_

"_Yes, Daddy," the little girl had answered, choking off her sobs at once._

"Get your trunk," present-day Dean told the redhead, tearing her out of her memory. They had arrived at the house finally.

She swallowed and nodded, getting out of the car and taking her trunk from the boot. She hauled the heavy thing up the porch steps while Dean unlocked the front door and stepped inside the house. The redhead followed, trembling. She wasn't entirely sure what to expect when they got home, so she stepped inside and closed the door after her, and then just sort of stood in the living room, waiting for Dean to order her to do something.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" he growled, standing half in the living room, half in the kitchen. "Take that silly trunk upstairs. And no funny business, either."

"Yes, Daddy."

So the redhead did as she was told, and hauled her trunk up to her room, setting it at the foot of her bed. For a moment she simply sat on her childhood bed and listened. She could hear Dean moving around downstairs; he was in the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for a beer, probably. She sighed, wondering why she had been born at the end of April; it was only the beginning of January. She wouldn't be seventeen (of legal age in the wizarding world) for almost four months. That was a long time.

"I'm going to the store," Dean said from the doorway of her bedroom. She looked up, startled; she hadn't heard him climb the stairs.

"Okay."

"You stay here and unpack. Maybe you could do some cleaning around here, too."

"Okay." What he really meant was he was out of beer and had to go get more, and she had better clean the house before he got back, or else.

"No magic while I'm gone," he continued sternly.

"I can't do magic outside of school yet," she said gloomily. That meant that for the next few months would be completely magic-free; she would miss out on taking her N.E.W.T tests, and she wouldn't be able to graduate with her friends. She wouldn't learn the complex spells and potions they were learning probably right now.

Dean didn't say anything to that, just turned around and left, slamming the front door after him.

* * *

A little over two hours later Dean came stumbling back into the house, carrying two 12-packs of his favourite beer. Lily was vacuuming upstairs; she had cleaned the whole house and was just finishing up. She hadn't heard her father come in the door, so she continued to vacuum, wondering what she might be doing if she were at Hogwarts instead.

He came storming up the stairs to find the redhead vacuuming the hall just outside her room. "Why haven't you finished cleaning yet?" he demanded, and she whirled around, her eyes wide.

"Daddy! I didn't realize you were home already—"

He ripped the chord to the vacuum out of the wall and advanced on her. She cowered away, pressing herself against her bedroom door. "I told you to clean up while I was gone!" he yelled. "Worthless little bitch can't do anything right, can you? I said, CAN YOU?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't—"

"Don't argue with me!" He slapped her across the face, and she winced but remained quiet. "This is for your disobedience!" Another slap; she stayed quiet and unmoving. "This is for your cheekiness!"

Each time he came up with a new reason, she got another slap or punch. Still, she said nothing to him and did nothing to try and protect herself. She knew if she did either one, the beating would be worse.

A punch to the ribs nearly knocked the breath out of her. "That was for leaving the house when I told you not to! This is for not coming home when I told you to! This is for hanging around with those defiant little friends of yours! This is for that arrogant boy—"

_James_. Oh, how she wished this were all a nightmare she could just wake up from! She wished she were back at the castle right now with the others—with James. He made her feel so safe, wrapped up in his arms. He also made her feel beautiful, but not in the same way that Brady had; James had a way of making her feel good about who she was, inside and out. The way he looked into her eyes and saw—_really_ saw—what she was feeling…she had never had that feeling around anyone else in the world.

"Wipe that smirk off your face!" Dean shouted, slapping the redhead's face smartly. She could taste blood, but still she said nothing. She hadn't even been aware that she was smiling, but she immediately stopped and replaced it instead with a stoic expression. "Do you find this amusing? DO YOU?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but Dean delivered her temple a blow that nearly knocked her unconscious. She fell to the floor, throwing her arms out to catch the impact of the fall. She cried out in pain out as her right wrist snapped, and rolled onto her back, cradling the broken wrist with her left hand. Dean reached out, grabbed the vacuum, and threw it down the stairs while she lay on the floor, moaning. She realized that Dean would just as easily toss _her_ down the stairs as he did the vacuum. She tried to curl into a ball (the best position for self-defence, she had learned), but he reached down and yanked her back to a standing position using only her right arm.

She howled in agony, sobbing and pulling her wrist back to her body, cradling it against her chest. "Daddy," she begged, "please stop—"

But her words were completely ignored; he only cared about her tears, which were met with more violence. "Don't cry, you worthless bitch! Don't be weak!"

Once again she fell to the floor, but this time she took the brunt of the fall on her left shoulder, trying to keep her broken wrist from moving too much. As the world started to fall away, all she could think was: _James, you're my only hope now.

* * *

_It had already been a week since Lily had left, and still James had heard nothing from her. Nicole had been become inconsolable; she didn't eat or sleep anymore, and it seemed like she was always crying. It didn't matter what the Marauders tried to tell her; nothing seemed to help. James himself was also a wreck. It made him nauseous to think about all the things that could have happened to the redhead. He had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he hardly ate, either. If something didn't change soon, everyone was certain that Nicole and James were going to become the newest Hogwarts ghosts.

"Come on, mate, you have to eat _something_," Remus tried coaxing James at breakfast one morning. "You'll be no good to her if you're dead, you know."

"What if she's already dead?" Nicole whispered, staring at the side of the juice carton without actually seeing it. Her face was incredibly ashen, and she also had bags under her eyes.

"Don't say that!" James said, pounding his fist on the table so that a few people around them jumped a little. "It sounds like you've already given up hope! She needs us, Stone! You can't start talking like that!"

"I'm only saying what everyone else is thinking!" Nicole shot back, her eyes watering. "I know you think about it, too, James. I know you sit there and imagine her all alone somewhere, her body covered in bruises—"

"SHUT UP!" he roared, standing up so quickly that he knocked over a goblet of orange juice. The Great Hall got very quiet all of a sudden; everyone was staring at James, who was panting and trembling. He stormed out of the hall and up to the common room he used to share with a small redheaded girl.

He began pacing around the room—a new hobby of his. What was he supposed to do? He didn't dare send _her_ a letter, because he didn't know how her father would react, but he also couldn't just sit around and wait. He shoved his fingers through his hair, knocking his glasses askew and not even caring. Oh, how he just wanted to know she was okay! What he wouldn't give just to _know_.

Unable to hold back his built up energy, he strode over to a wall and punched it as hard as he could. He cursed as pain shot up his arm, but somehow the pain seemed to calm him down a little. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as his mother often did when she appeared to be stressed.

Then he fell into the nearest armchair and sighed, taking his glasses off his face and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

His head shot up at a sound at the window. _Could it be—_he barely dared to hope. He leapt out of the chair and rushed to the nearest window, where a small brown owl was pecking at the glass. When he opened the window, the owl shot inside, partially pushed along by a gust of icy wind. James shut the window hurriedly and untied the parchment wrapped around the owl's leg.

_Meet me outside tonight at midnight. I'll be waiting around the Forbidden Forest._

He turned the parchment over to see if she'd written anything else on the back, but that's all the writing there was. But it was definitely in Lily Evans's handwriting. Why had it taken her so long to reply? And why was it so short? How was she planning on getting to the grounds, anyway? He pushed all the questions aside. It didn't matter. He was going to see her again! Tonight!**

* * *

**Classes seemed to drag by for James. He couldn't seem to sit still or concentrate. It seemed as if everything was going in slow motion; each time he looked at the clock it seemed to be earlier and earlier, almost like time was moving backwards instead of forwards. He felt as if he were going mad. When Nicole tried to apologize for her words earlier, he just nodded, unable to think about anything but his upcoming meeting with Lily. He wasn't going to tell the others about it until later, after it happened. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, or what condition she was going to be in, or even if she'd make it at all.

At long last it was a quarter till midnight. James grabbed his Invisibility cloak from under his bed, snatched up the Marauders' Map and left the common room. Once in the hallway he threw on the cloak and tapped the map, saying, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," and went on his way, avoiding Filch and Mrs. Norris, who were patrolling different parts of the castle. He used one of the many pathways out of the castle.

* * *

A/N: I hope you all were paying attention, because there was a _very_ important incident in this chapter that foreshadows to an event coming up later…


	19. Lithium

**Chapter 19 Lithium**

_I want to stay in love with my sorrow_

_Don't want to let it lay me down this time_

_Drown my will to fly_

_Here in the darkness I know myself_

_Can't break free until I let it go_

_Let me go_

…_And in the end I guess I had to fall_

_Always find my place among the ashes_

**Lithium by Evanescence**

Outside the air was cold and the wind was harsh, thrashing about James and the Invisibility cloak. He pulled the cloak tighter against him so the wind couldn't sweep it away, and began scanning the grounds for a familiar figure. He was just about to give up when he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye; it was a black cloak billowing in the wind, he was sure of it.

As he drew closer, he saw that he was right. It was Lily all right, leaning up against the trunk of a huge tree where the Forbidden Forest just began. He felt a grin cross his face at the sight of her standing there, her face lit up with the pale moonlight, her dark red hair blowing all around in her eyes and mouth. He couldn't think of a more beautiful sight if he tried.

He tucked the map into his robes, took a deep breath and ran forward, still invisible, and picked her up around the waist, twirling her in a circle. She let out a surprised little shriek, which he quieted with his lips pressed against hers. He pushed her up against the tree and kissed her. He had never been so happy to see anyone in his entire seventeen years of existence.

But she was whimpering a little, and trying to push him away with one arm. He stepped back and pulled the cloak off, revealing his body. "What?" he asked. "What's wrong? It's just me."

"It's nothing," she said, laughing nervously. But James saw how she was sort of holding one arm against her chest protectively. He gently pulled that arm away from her body, aware of the sharp hiss of pain that escaped her throat, and pulled back the sleeve of her cloak.

"This is not nothing, Lily," he said seriously, looking at the redhead's right wrist. It was swollen and bruised almost up to the elbow. It was clearly broken and probably dislocated, too, from the way the bones stuck out at a funny angle. "How long has it been like this?"

She swallowed and avoided looking him in the eyes. For a moment she didn't answer. "It happened the first night I was back," she admitted finally. "So a week, I guess."

"Why haven't you had it fixed yet?"

She shrugged, still not looking at him. "Daddy won't take me to the doctor, because they'll want to know how it happened, and they'll examine my body, and then they'd know I was being—"

"Abused," James finished when she broke off, unable to say the word. She simply nodded. "How did you get here, anyways? Without magic, I mean."

She shrugged again. "I Apparated."

"But doesn't that count as under-aged magic?"

"I'm not completely sure," she admitted. "But I haven't gotten a letter from M.O.M. yet, so I think I'm safe. Even if I _do_ get a letter, I don't care. I had to get out of there…I had to see you."

"I'm glad you did," he said softly, carefully pulling her back into his arms, avoiding her broken wrist as best he could. She still winced at the pain from the numerous bruises covering her body, but she didn't care about a little pain. "I'm so glad you came tonight. I've been _dying_, not knowing if you were okay or not."

"Well, I've certainly been better," she said, "but at least I'm not dead. I'm sorry I didn't send you a letter sooner, but he took my owl from me so I couldn't send anyone anything, and he took away almost all of my school things. Luckily I managed to hide my wand from him."

"So how did you send the letter this morning?"

"I snuck into his room really early, while he was still knocked out from all the alcohol, tied the note to her leg and threw her out the window before he had the chance to wake up and stop me."

James nodded. "I think I may have found a solution for our little problem, or at least a temporary fix."

"Oh? What's that?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent, but she really wanted to jump up out of joy. She knew he'd fix this somehow.

"I think you should move into my house, with my parents," he said slowly. "It would only be for a little while, of course, but at least it would give us a little more time to come up with a better plan."

Before he had even finished suggesting this idea she was already shaking her head. "It's not going to work," she said softly.

"How do you know that?" he asked. "It could work."

"No, it won't," she replied, shaking her head again. "I don't even _know_ your parents, for one thing—"

"Yes you do," he countered. "You met them at the Christmas party. Don't you remember? You do too know them."

"I've met them once at a crowded party that I almost died at, James. I hardly think that constitutes as _knowing_ someone!"

"You don't need to be their best friend to stay with them for a few weeks," he replied, exasperated. "They work most of the time, so you'll hardly ever see them. At least it is safer there than at your house! _My_ parents won't hurt you."

"That's not really the point though, is it?" she sighed. "I need to come back to Hogwarts. Besides that, if the Ministry _ever_ found out that I was staying there—with me being underage and all—your parents could get in a lot of trouble."

"But you'd be _safe_, Lily," he pleaded. "That's all that really matters!"

"I wish it were that easy, but it's not."

"It could be! Who cares about the Ministry getting my parents into a little bit of trouble? At least you wouldn't be dead, for crying out loud! The Ministry won't even do anything about your goddamn abusive father, so who cares about them, anyway?"

"Thank you, James, for everything you've done for me," she whispered, "but I won't let you or anyone else get in trouble for me. I can't ask you or your parents to do that for me."

"Why do you always have to be so stubborn?" he asked, slightly frustrated. He just wanted her to be safe! Why was she so worried about the stupid Ministry of Magic when she should be more concerned with her own life?

"Why won't you listen to my reasons?" she shot back. "I just don't want you to get into trouble after everything you've done for me, or your parents, either—"

He pulled away from her and shoved a hand through his hair. "Screw my parents!" he cried, starting to pace again like a wild, caged animal. "Don't you see? They wouldn't even know you were there! They're always at work! I was practically raised by house elves and maids; they were always so busy with work they couldn't be bothered with their only son! Do you _honestly_ think they'd notice _you_?"

She took a few steps back, unaccustomed to such displays of emotion from him. He always seemed to be in perfect control of his temper. In fact, Lily had often envied him for that quality, having a classic redheaded temper herself. But she was starting to recognize a pattern in his behaviour: every time his parents were mentioned in a conversation, he'd tense up. Most of the time it was hardly noticeable, but there were rare times in which he'd exploded. It would seem that not even James Potter had a perfect home life.

"Look," she said gently, reaching out to touch his arm, but he jerked away from her. Startled and a little hurt, she withdrew her good arm back to her side and continued calmly. "I'm so sorry about your parents, but even still, I just can't risk getting anyone else in trouble because of me."

"I don't care about getting in a little trouble, Lily!" he said pleadingly. "It's not like my record's exactly spotless here, and even if it was, all I really care about is keeping you safe!" Couldn't she see that he would give her the world if she asked him for it?

"I know. But don't worry. We'll find another way," she said, heaving a huge sigh.

* * *

With a heavy heart Lily left the school behind and returned to the place she was most reluctant to be. Thankfully Dean was still sleeping when she got in, and she was able to tiptoe up to her room without confrontation. When she stepped inside her room, there was a letter on her bed. Sighing she walked over to her bed and picked the letter up. Unsurprised to see it was from the Ministry of Magic, she tore the letter to shreds without even opening it. She had enough on her plate without having to deal with a stupid letter about under-aged magic, too.

_Besides, it's not like the Ministry has ever done anything for me_, she thought angrily, tossing the shreds of parchment into her wastebasket. Carefully she lay on her bed, keeping her injured wrist pulled safely against her chest. But then she heard a noise down the hallway, and she shot up, wincing as pain raced up her right arm in little electrical shocks.

Swallowing, she stood and made her way quietly to her bedroom door, which thankfully was closed. She knew the noise couldn't have possibly been Dean; he was still snoring loudly in his room a few doors down. It could be an intruder, she supposed, but it wasn't likely they would find anything worthy of being stolen. Still, curiosity got the best of her, and she slowly opened the door, wary of making any sound whatsoever. She stepped into the hallway, painfully aware that she had no means of self-defence; she had left her wand sitting on her desk back in her bedroom.

The hallway was pitch black, so she was unable to see anything or—more importantly—any_one_. She thought she heard a noise behind her, and she whirled around but was unable to make anything out in the dark. Uneasy, she decided that she would need a flashlight if she were to make any headway. She tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen, and began rummaging around in the drawers. At last her fingers enclosed upon a thin flashlight, and—hoping it had batteries—she pulled it out and switched it on.

She turned around, ready to continue her search, and came face-to-face with another human being. She screamed and dropped the flashlight. The person in front of her ducked down and retrieved the light and handed it back to her, saying easily, "Man, Evans, you sure are jumpy!"

"Jesus Christ!" she cried, putting a hand to her pounding heart.

"Not quite," James said, grinning.

"You scared the living daylights out of me!" she said sorely, punching his arm. "What in God's name are you doing here, Potter?"

His brows scrunched together, and he replied, confused, "You asked me to come."

"I did?" Was she _completely_ losing her mind to the point of forgetting something like asking James Potter to come home with her? She shook her head. "I don't think I did—"

"But you sent me this letter," he protested, reaching into his back pocket.

Just then there was a noise like someone clearing their throat, and both teens turned to the doorway, where a tall man in a grotesque mask stood, holding up an unconscious Dean Evans by the back of his shirt.

"Hello, kiddies," the man said, grinning sadistically. Lily's eyes were huge as she stared at the scene before her eyes. What on _earth_ was going on?

"Who the hell are you?" James demanded, his eyes narrowing as he reached for his wand.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man said in response, eyeing James's arm which was obviously reaching for _something_. He pulled out his own wand and pointed it at the boy, and he froze.

"What do you want?" James asked, dropping his hand back to his side.

The wizard's gaze shifted to the redhead, and his malicious grin widened. "Oh, nothing much," he replied frivolously. "Just to have you kill your father."

Lily blinked a few times. When he added nothing more, she blurted, "Surely you're joking…aren't you?"

"Afraid not, Red. And if you refuse, then I'll have to kill wonder boy here." He paused to let this sink in. "Your choice," he sneered.

She shook her head and swallowed thickly. "I can't kill my own father!"

"Very well then. _Crucio!_"

James cried out in agony and fell to the kitchen floor, writhing in pain. For a moment all Lily could do was stare in horror. "STOP IT!" she screamed. "STOP! _PLEASE_!"

At last the wizard took the curse off, and James lay motionless on the floor, moaning. The wizard smirked as he watched the redhead stare down at the boy in horror. "Now then. Would you care to reconsider?"

* * *

A/N: So, just as a little note, I went back and edited chapter 16 (in which Lily's father strikes her in front of the teachers) so the said incident doesn't happen. The teachers never witness the redhead being hit by Dean, so they don't have proof, and therefore cannot legally keep Dean from taking his daughter from the castle. It was bugging me, too, because I felt so stupid that I hadn't seen that before, so it's fixed now! Yay lol. And I'm not liking the song for this chapter, so I might come back and fix it, too.


	20. Take Me

**Chapter 20 Take Me**

_I lit my pain on fire_

_And I watched it all burn down_

_Now I'm dancing in the ashes_

_And there's no one else around_

…_As days go by my heart grows cold_

_I can't seem to let this all pass me by_

…_I'm burning in the heavens_

_And I'm drowning in a hell_

_My soul is in a coma_

_And none of my friends can tell_

_That I'm reaching out_

_And getting nothing_

_This is just a story of broken soul_

**Take Me by Papa Roach**

Her abusive father or the boy who loved and wanted her? The choice should have been easy. But how was she supposed to kill someone? What kind of sick joke was this, anyway? Lily was furious with the man holding her father and who had put James through such pain using one of the Unforgivable curses. How dare he expect her to choose between being the one to kill her own father and watching someone else kill James? What was this supposed to accomplish?

"Choose," demanded the wizard, and though Lily could not see his face because of the bone mask, she could hear the sneer in his voice. He was mocking her, enjoying the war being waged in her mind. She wanted to kill _him_.

_Just when I thought my life couldn't possibly get any worse_, Lily thought miserably. This was most definitely a lose-lose situation, and either way it turned out, she would consider herself a murderer. _As if I didn't hate myself enough already!_

"_Now_," he snapped, growing less patient as the minutes ticked by. He lifted his wand toward James, who was starting to push himself off the floor. "Unless, of course, you've already made you choice—"

"No!" the redhead cried, taking the man's attention off the boy and onto herself. "Why are you doing this?"

He sighed, exasperated. "Choose! Now! Or I will choose for you, and you already know _my_ choice, so get going, Mudblood!"

Lily's eyes fell onto the back of the head covered in perpetually messy black hair. She watched his back rise and lower with the rhythm of breathing and felt a sharp ache in her chest as she thought what life would be like without him. She would only have her father—a man who gave her a quick temper, long legs, and freckles, but could care less most of the time whether or not she still lived. It was in that moment of imagining a world without James Potter that she made her decision.

"Alright," she whispered, unable to take her eyes from that messy black hair. "Alright," she said again, louder this time. "I'll do it."

"Do _what_?" the man asked mockingly, knowing very well what she had decided. He wanted her to say it out loud though. It was sweeter that way. She muttered something under her breath. "What was that? I couldn't _hear_ you," he drawled, his overly sweet voice laced with venom.

She tore her eyes from the only person who had been able to bypass her icy armour and forced herself to stare into the eyes of her tormentor, which were the only physical feature of his face that she could see. They were a pale—almost colourless—blue. "I will kill my father if it means sparing James's life."

"Excellent." Inside the bone mask, the wizard called Welsh smiled in relief. For a moment as the girl had stared down at the boy on the floor, Welsh had been afraid that she would choose to let her father live. His master had told him to make sure she chose the boy's life over her father's, and if she had chosen the other way, Welsh was certain to have been killed himself.

"_What if she doesn't choose the boy, my Lord?" Welsh had asked, respectfully kneeling on one knee in front of his master's chair, his head lowered so his eyes stared only at the floor._

"_I am confident she will choose him," drawled the high, cold voice of Lord Voldemort. "I have been studying her for some time now, and I know that she needs to feel loved. She will choose to murder her father if it means keeping the boy alive."_

"_Forgive me for asking, my Lord…but why do we need the Mudblood girl, anyway? Haven't you got enough pureblood followers as it is?" Welsh had asked cautiously._

_Though he could not see them, Voldemort's eyes were flashing angrily. "You _dare_ question my motives?" he demanded. "She is the top witch in her class, and has enough anger to make for very powerful magic if properly trained. That's all you need to know."_

"_I'm sorry, my Lord," Welsh said instantly, kissing the hem of the black robe in front of him without raising his eyes. "Please forgive me."_

"_Do not disappoint me, Welsh, for the consequences will be severe indeed."_

The girl's voice drew him from his memory. "I forgot—I don't have my wand," she said, still staring him in the eyes. Neither could seem to break the eye contact. "It's up in my room."

Pointing his wand over her shoulder, he said, "_Wingardium leviosa!_"

The drawer behind her opened, bumping her back, and a knife came floating out. It stopped to hover in front of her, just within arm's reach.

"You want me to use _that_?" she squeaked, staring at the knife as if it were a giant viper ready to strike her at any moment.

He pointed his wand back at the boy, flicking his wrist and saying, "_Crucio!"_

Again James cried out in pain, curling his body in a ball, his eyes screwed shut against the agony of the curse. Lily dropped to the ground, tears spilling across her cheeks as she hesitantly reached out for him, afraid of causing him more pain by touching him.

"STOP!" she screamed. "I told you I'd do it! Stop hurting him!"

"You will use the knife, or I will continue to torture the boy until he's begging you to let me kill him."

"Fine," the redhead sobbed, giving in. "I'll u-use the knife."

"I thought you would say that, Red," Welsh sneered, and flicked his wrist again, taking the curse off.

James lay still at last, chest heaving. Lily reached out and took him in her arms, not caring about the pain in her right wrist as she did so. She put her face in his hair, sobbing and holding him tightly against her. At last she pulled back and kissed his forehead, laying him gently against the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

With a queasy feeling she stood and took the knife out of the air. She could not believe what she was about to do, but she knew what would happen if she didn't. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she tried to prepare herself for what was to come.

"Well?" Welsh demanded impatiently. "Are you going to do it, or are you just going to stand there?"

"Why, have you got some other person to torture tonight?" Lily spat back, her eyes snapping back open.

His eyes narrowed. This girl certainly _did_ have a sharp tongue and a short fuse to go with, though he suspected his master had other plans for the girl. "Just get it over with, if you please."

The redhead took a deep breath and steeled herself against the annoying, doubtful thoughts running through her mind. She knew she was making the right decision. James had done so much for her in the past few months; without him, nothing would be bearable. She finally understood what it was like to be loved, and she knew she could not stand the thought of losing that. She also knew that life without her father wouldn't affect her in a negative way. So she opened her eyes and stepped toward Dean's unconscious form, the knife raised slightly.

Then she hesitated. Why was she having second thoughts? What was wrong with her?

"What _now_?" Welsh snapped.

"I can't kill him," she whispered.

"_What?_ Why not?" he asked, as if she had just said she could no longer remember how to breathe.

"He's defenceless, that's why! He's completely unconscious and has no way of protecting himself!"

"Oh, for—" Welsh bit his tongue and made sure he had his temper in check before speaking again. "Would it help if he were awake then?"

The girl paused, as if thinking, then shook her head and released her grip on the handle of the knife. It fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Pick up the knife, Red," Welsh commanded through clenched teeth.

"No."

"Do it. NOW."

"Are you deaf? I said no."

"_Imperio_!" shouted Welsh, pointing his wand at the redhead. "Pick. Up. The. Knife." With a short jerking motion, the girl complied, glaring. "Now then. Think about all the times your father yelled at, beat and raped you. Remember that this is your only chance for revenge."

He let his command sink in for some time. The minutes ticked by, counted by the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. Once he had given her a sufficient amount of time to think over the past nine years of hell, he removed the mind-controlling curse; he noticed with some interest that her eyes were flashing angrily. Then he waved his wand at the girl's father and he awoke suddenly, standing up on his own and looking around groggily.

"What's going on?" Dean asked roughly, his eyes having not yet adjusted to the dim light of the kitchen. After all, the only source of light in the otherwise pitch-black room was the discarded flashlight that lay forgotten at Lily's feet. "What are you doing with that knife, you worthless bit—"

As if a trigger word had been said, the redhead launched herself at her father, unable to contain the rage she now felt. They erupted into a ball of flailing limbs. Her first strike fell on Dean's forearm, because he threw up his arms for protection automatically. He cried out as the sharp blade of the knife sliced through tender flesh. The next strike fell with such force that it bit into the muscle of his calf; he howled in pain, and tried to wrest the knife from her.

Over and over again the redhead forced the cool steel of the knife into her father's body, hardly even seeing anything. She was in such a fit of rage and despair that all she really saw was—literally—red. She didn't even think about what she was doing. Occasionally Dean managed to catch her off-guard and landed a punch or kick to her, but he was fighting mostly out of desperation, and focused most of his energy on trying to keep the knife away from him.

Sometime during the fight, the wizard called Welch slipped out of the kitchen and disappeared in the night. He knew his job had been successfully completed. Not long after Welsh left, Dean's struggles slowed and eventually ceased, but still Lily stabbed, unable to stop.

* * *

Slowly James pushed himself off the floor, his whole body aching and bruised. He could see nothing but the blurry outline of a person sitting a few feet away from him. He reached up and fixed his glasses, which had been knocked askew, and then crawled over to the person. Now that he had his glasses, he could see that it was Lily, with her back turned away from him, her arm making weird jerking motions. Her shoulders were shaking, as if she were crying.

He put a hand on one shoulder, and she swung around, startled. She had forgotten about James.

"Lily, are you—" He stopped as realization struck. Tightly clutched in her left hand was a bloody knife, and he noticed that she was sitting on something. "Oh my God," he whispered, horrified, as it completely hit him. He clasped a hand over his mouth, gagging. "What have you _done_?"

She followed his gaze to the bloody knife, and dropped it suddenly as if burned by its touch. She looked down at herself, covered in blood as well, then down at her father, who lay in a pool of his own blood, motionless. It was as if she were just realizing what she'd done, too.

"I…I don't know," she whispered back, staring with wide, blank eyes at her father's mutilated body. "That wiz—" Abruptly her mouth snapped shut, her jaw clenching to stop the words from coming.

"What? What were you going to say?" James asked, finally tearing his eyes from the bloody corpse.

She shook her head, her hair falling into her face to hide it. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Lily, come on. Tell me what happened." She shook her head again, harder this time.

"Talk to me!"

Silence.

"Please!"

More silence.

"Lily, _please_!"

The rocking grew more frantic, but still she kept her mouth clamped tightly shut.

"LILY!"

* * *

A/N: So, I have decided that I'm not going to update until I have at least 15 reviews per chapter, because I'm getting slightly frustrated with the ridiculous hits-to-reviews ratio thingy. I've got a gazillion people reading this, and about 6 reviewing all the time. Also, I've created another Lily/James fic, but it's going to be probably a lot different than this one. Still, if you're interested, please go read it (AND review, 'cuz that'd be lovely).


	21. Time of Dying

**Chapter 21 Time of Dying**

_On the ground I lay _

_Motionless in pain_

_I can see my life flashing before my eyes_

_Did I fall asleep?_

_Is this all a dream?_

_Wake me up_

_I'm living a nightmare_

…_was it all too much_

_Or just not enough?_

**Time of Dying by Three Days Grace**

James had long given up on trying to get Lily to communicate. He left her on the kitchen floor so he could quickly write a letter to Dumbledore. The redhead sat in the same place he had found her in; she had wrapped her arms around her legs and placed her head on her knees. Slowly but rhythmically she rocked back and forth, keeping her face hidden by a curtain of flame-coloured hair.

James paced the living room floor, wringing his hands anxiously. From time to time he would unconsciously pinch the skin of his wrist until he nearly bled, but he was seemingly unaware of the pain. After twenty minutes of this there was finally a frantic knocking on the front door. He rushed forward and pulled the door open, breathing a sigh of immense relief when he saw that it was Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, still dressed in their nightclothes with long black cloaks hastily thrown on over them.

They hurried inside, and James closed and locked the door after them.

"Where is she?" McGonagall asked breathlessly.

"In the kitchen," James replied, and when both adults turned to go in there he hastily added, "But I have to you warn you now, it's _really_ gruesome, and she won't talk to you."

They barely even hesitated at his words, rounding the corner to enter the kitchen. McGonagall let out an odd, strangling-like noise and left the room shortly thereafter. James decided to join Dumbledore in the kitchen while McGonagall tried to regain her composure in the front room.

His stomach clenched as he caught sight of the body, and he nearly gagged again. Dumbledore was standing over the rocking girl. He still had the same calm demeanour, although the twinkle had left his eyes, and he was considerably paler than before.

"What has happened here?" he asked, and James wasn't entirely sure to whom the question was addressed.

Since Lily was making no obvious attempt to respond, silently rocking back and forth and keeping her face hidden, it was James who answered. "I'm not entirely sure, sir." Dumbledore turned to look at him. "It's a bit hard to remember. I do remember that I got a letter from Lily asking me to meet her at her house, but when I showed up, she didn't have a clue about the letter. Then a man in this really horrid bone mask showed up, and then…" He trailed away with an exasperated sigh. "I don't really remember anything else, just waking up on the floor, with Lily sitting over her father's body with a bloody knife in her hand."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. And you say Miss Evans hasn't spoken since you found her with the knife?"

James shook his head. "I asked her what happened, and she said she didn't know. Then she started to say something else and then stopped. She wouldn't tell me what she'd been about to say, no matter how much I begged her. Then I sent that letter to you."

Once again the old man nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now, would you mind checking on Professor McGonagall? I expect she's had quite a nasty shock."

James nodded and left the kitchen. He found his Transfiguration teacher sitting on the couch, her eyes closed and her fingers at her temples. He came to sit beside her, and she opened her eyes with a small sigh.

"I don't even know what to say," she said haggardly. "I never would have expected…_this_ coming from such a sweet, innocent girl like Lily Evans. I fear for the world, if acts of such violence are capable of coming from someone like her."

"He deserved it," James suddenly burst out heatedly, anger making bright patches of colour appear on his cheeks. McGonagall turned to look at him, startled at the display of emotion. "I mean, you saw the way he treated Lily; you saw all those bruises on her body every summer! Can you even _imagine_ what he must have done when they were alone?"

For several long moments they were both silent. Then McGonagall stood. "Come, Potter. I'm guessing Albus will be needing our assistance in the kitchen."

When they stepped back into the kitchen, they found Dumbledore crouched next to the redhead, who was rocking faster than ever. "Miss Evans, I know you're in a state of severe shock, but I need to get some answers before I proceed. I'm going to need you to cooperate with me."

"Albus, surely this can wait? The poor girl has been terribly traumatized tonight. Perhaps we should wait awhile, let her mind heal, before we force her to relive this horrible night."

"I would agree with you, Minerva, if this were not a matter of time," Dumbledore replied tiredly. James noted that he was looking older than he'd ever seen him. "Unfortunately, we will have to involve the Muggle authorities as well as wizarding. We shall need an explanation to give the Muggles, and you know as well as I do that the Minister will be wanting a detailed explanation."

James thought about this for a moment while the adults were silent. "Couldn't you just tell the Muggles it was a case of self-defence? They wouldn't know the difference. And you could simply tell the Minister you suspect self-defence but won't know for sure until you can get Lily counselling to help her get past the shock."

"It's certainly worth considering, Albus," McGonagall said pleadingly. "Think about everything _else_ this poor girl has gone through this year alone! Her mind is incredibly fragile, and I think it would be best to wait until she is _ready_ to tell you what really happened here."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, you're both right. Miss Evans needs time to let her mind rest and recuperate before she relives this nightmare."

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

Dumbledore sent Professor McGonagall back to the school to act as headmistress while he went to the Ministry of Magic to speak with the Minister himself. James was left at the house with Lily and the body. He was meant to call the police and wait for them to arrive, and then explain everything. After the police's questions had been answered and the body taken away to be dealt with by their people, James was to bring Lily to King's Cross, where the Hogwarts Express would be waiting to take them back to the school.

There was a brusque knocking at the door. James answered it quickly, and allowed entrance for the man and woman dressed in the uniform of the Muggle London authorities. The first thing they asked was to see the body, which James lead them to and then watched as they looked it over. Lily was no longer in the kitchen; James had scooped her up and set her down gently on the couch in her bloody clothes and all. As soon as he'd done this, she drew her knees up under her chin again and hid her face, though she no longer rocked.

"This is where you found the knife?" the woman policewoman asked, pointing down at the bloody knife next to the corpse.

James nodded. "Yes, that's where she'd dropped it."

The man looked him over somewhat suspiciously. "So, tell us…what exactly happened here?"

"I got a call a few hours ago from Lily, my girlfriend, saying that something really bad happened, so I told her I'd come right over," James said, giving them the story he had been reciting and memorizing since Dumbledore and McGonagall had left. "When I got here, I found her in the kitchen, sitting right there—" he pointed—"holding the knife and crying. I asked what happened, and she told me that her father had come home drunk and attacked her, and so she'd grabbed a knife off the counter and tried to fight him off. Then she said things got kind of fuzzy, and she just sort of lost it and started stabbing him."

"And your girlfriend's father has had a history of beating his daughter?" the policewoman asked.

"Yes," James replied quietly. "She told me that he's been doing it for almost nine years now."

"Why wasn't this abuse ever called in?" the policeman asked suspiciously. It was clear he didn't believe this story, even though James and the professors had made the story stick as close to the truth as they knew it.

"She's been too ashamed to tell anyone. Her mother doesn't even know," James replied, fixing his glasses. "I just recently found out myself."

"So why didn't _you_ report it?"

"She begged me not to tell, and I promised that I wouldn't."

"You should never make a promise like that," the policewoman said sternly. "You should have told a trusted adult as soon as you found out. This could have been prevented."

"She isn't…you know, going to get in trouble for it, is she?" he asked uncertainly. "I mean, it _was_ self-defence after all. You believe me, right?"

"It would be better to hear this coming from her mouth, not yours," the woman said more gently.

"Well, you could try and talk to her, but I haven't gotten her to say a word since she told me what happened, no matter how hard I tried. She's in shock. If you don't mind, I'd like to take her to a hospital."

"In a moment, son. We need to take a look at her first," the man said, as the woman grabbed out her radio and began to speak into it, asking for a forensics team and the coroner to come.

"Sure. She's back in the living room." James led the officers back into the living room, where the redhead sat on the couch. "Lily, these nice people want to talk to you. They're here to help."

"Lily, my name is Detective Sanchez, and this is my partner, Detective Johnson," said the woman, crouching down in front of the couch. Lily didn't look up or move at all. "Can you tell me what happened, Lily?"

Silence followed, only interrupted by the crackling of the radio at the detectives' waists.

"Your boyfriend says it was self-defence. He says your father attacked you first, and you were only defending yourself. Is that true?"

To James's utter shock, Lily responded. She lifted her head slightly and peered at the woman through a curtain of her flaming red hair. "Yes."

The detectives looked at each other, then at James, who shrugged, looking as shocked as they did.

"Do you want to tell us what happened?" Sanchez asked gently, ducking her head to look into Lily's eyes, though they just stared out at nothing in particular, looking slightly glazed over.

"H-he was drunk. He attacked me. I grabbed the knife and tried to fight him off. He called me a worthless bitch—his favourite phrase for me—and I-I guess I just lost it. I started to s-s-stab him and I couldn't stop myself. Then…I don't remember."

"You don't remember calling your boyfriend, or telling him what happened?"

Lily shook her head. "I don't remember much of anything. I'm sorry."

"That's alright. I understand. Thank you for your cooperation," Sanchez said. Lily put her head back down. "But before we let your boyfriend take you to a hospital, could you do me a favour?" One eye opened and peered out of the curtain of hair. "Can you show me where your father hit you?"

Silently Lily stood. Slowly she stepped out of all her clothes until she stood in front of all three of them completely naked, seemingly unashamed. The detectives carefully examined her body while she stared straight in front of her, unmoving and unblinking. James wasn't sure which hurt him more…the number of bruises in all states of healing that marred her normally perfect skin, how skinny she had become, or the lifeless, empty look in her eyes. At least physical wounds would heal. Who knew how much mental damage had been caused in the past nine years of torture?

The detectives made note of all her injuries, including the knife slash across one arm from when Dean had been fighting back, saying quietly to each other, "These are definitely defensive wounds."

Finally he could take no more. "Look, if you don't need her anymore, I really think I should get Lily to the hospital now. You can get in touch with her mother if you need to get a hold of her again."

"Certainly." Johnson nodded. "We've got all we need right now, and it really is best if she gets to a hospital soon. That wrist looks pretty bad."

James simply nodded, then went to help Lily into her clothes again, since she was still standing with a blank look on her face. "Don't worry," he whispered in her ear, alarmed at how icy cold her skin was to the touch. "The Hogwarts Express is waiting for us at the station. Soon we'll be able to get out of here."

"I'd better go get her a jacket though," he said aloud. "It's pretty cold out tonight."

He dashed up the stairs before waiting for a response. Performing a quick search of all the upstairs bedrooms he found her trunk with her school supplies, and threw in some more clothes at random from her closet and drawers, figuring she'd want some of it. Then he took out his wand, shrank the trunk, and put it in his pocket. He was searching for her jacket when, on impulse, he decided to grab a blanket off her bed, too. He then went back downstairs, slipped the jacket on her, and then wrapped her up in the blanket.

"Thanks for everything," he said breathlessly to the detectives, who were now waiting on the rest of the team to come clean up and take the body away.

"No problem, kid," said Sanchez with a sad smile as they walked with the young "couple" to the door.

James scooped Lily up into his arms as Johnson opened the door, and stepped out into the night. It was raining now, not quite drizzling and not quite pouring, either. The water was mixing with the snow already on the ground to form a dirty slush that would freeze overnight and turn to ice. He pulled the blanket up to shelter Lily's face as he hurried out of the neighbourhood, desperate to put as many miles between her and that house as possible.

It was a long walk to the train station, and before long he was soaked through with ice-cold water and shivering violently. He could hardly see from the rivers of rainwater running down his glasses. However, Lily was lightweight and he was determined to make it to the train as quickly as possible. This night had been one long ordeal after another, and his body ached and his mind was exhausted. All he wanted to do was curl up in some warm, dry clothes and sleep.

At last they reached the train station, and his pace automatically sped up. He passed through the barrier onto platform 9 3/4, and to his immense relief, the scarlet steam engine was waiting for them like Dumbledore had promised.

He stumbled into the first compartment and set Lily gently on the seat. Then he took out his wand and first dried her, and then himself, unable to help feeling glad that he was seventeen.

He sat the seat next to the redhead, who remained silent. He set his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him. He smiled thinly. Without a word she crawled into his lap and curled into a little ball. He draped the blanket across them both and stroked her hair until they both fell asleep.

* * *

A/N: So I wanted to address some problems I already know are going to come up: Why did Dumbledore leave Lily and James to deal with the Muggle police by themselves? Answer: because it wouldn't fit with the story the three of them (James, Dumbledore and McGonagall, that is) came up with (about Lily calling her "boyfriend" over after murdering her father). And yes, I _do_ realize Dumbledore is terribly out of character, and I'm sorry. I normally don't include him in my fanfics, and if I do, he doesn't really play a significant role to the story line. This is pretty much the first fic I've written in which he shows up quite a few times, so I'm not accustomed to writing about his character. I know that's not a very good excuse, and I should try harder to keep him in character, but honestly I mostly just use him to fit the plot. I hope it doesn't bother any of you enough to where you don't want to read this anymore. 

Also, thanks so much for the reviews, everyone! I'm really happy to have gotten more than 6 or 7 reviews this time, so I decided to update early. It really means a lot as an author to receive reviews, even if they're really short and just tell me "It's really good" or something. Anything will do, really...because I just want to know that people are reading and liking this story, that's all.

K, I'm done now. As always, please review! (You know what'll happen if you don't lol)


	22. Grim Goodbye

A/N: First and foremost, I wanted to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. I've had it written for quite some time now, but I've been trying to perfect it, and lately I've been having a lot of issues with life that have kept me sufficiently busy enough so I couldn't update. I could explain it all, but I doubt you want to hear about all my drama lol so I won't. Thanks for being patient!

**Chapter 22 Grim Goodbye**

_Fate seems to recreate,  
I just cannot escape,  
Something holds me down and makes me  
act a way I can't explain  
Even now I can feel it coming over me choking me,  
as I'm falling behind  
You can say you know me,  
but you have no clue what my dreams could show you  
And darkness is fading in, and darkness is real_

**Grim Goodbye by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus**

When the train conductor came to wake them, the sun was just beginning to rise. The Hogwarts Express had arrived at the Hogsmeade station, and now a carriage waited to take Lily and James back up to the castle. It took some effort for the conductor to wake them, and they reluctantly stepped out of the warm train compartment into pouring rain once again. They quickly got into the carriage, Lily's trunk automatically being transported to her room up at the castle.

The ride in the carriage up to the castle was completely silent. Neither one knew what to say to the other. James seriously doubted if Lily was willing to say much, anyway. To his surprise, however, it was actually the redhead who broke the long, tense silence.

"Thanks," she whispered so softly he couldn't be sure if he had actually heard her.

"For what?"

She shrugged and fell silent again. Thankfully the castle could be seen now, and soon they would be getting out of the bumpy carriage and cold, icy rain and then they could slip back into a heavy sleep. This weighty silence was driving James crazy, and he was still exhausted from the arduous night.

At last the carriage rolled to a stop, and he stepped out first, offering a hand to help her down. She took it silently, and they hurried through the torrential rain up to the castle.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were waiting for them in the entrance hall, faces grim. Together the four of them walked to Dumbledore's office, where they all sat in various chairs set up there. Most of the old headmasters were still sleeping in their portraits, though a few were just beginning to stir, yawning and stretching, some awake enough to look shocked at having students in the office so early in the morning, and in such states of obvious disarray.

"Miss Evans, I hate to ask this of you so quickly after this past night's incident," Dumbledore began sombrely, "but I need for you to recount the events that lead to your father's death."

McGonagall looked quite upset that this was happening even after Dumbledore had agreed at the house that they should give the girl's mind some time to recuperate. James didn't understand, either.

Sensing this, the headmaster continued, "You see, the Minister himself has expressed some interest in your case, and Ministry officials said that two of the three Unforgivable curses were put into use at your place of residence."

After a small pause, Lily began to tell her story. As soon as she spoke, a quill flew into the air, dipped itself in the inkbottle, and began to scribble away at a piece of parchment laid out on Dumbledore's desk. Both teens turned to look at it.

"Don't mind the quill," the old man said gently. "I bewitched it to write a full and accurate account of your story, Miss Evans. When you're done, I'd like you to look over the account to verify it. Please continue."

Lily nodded, licked her lips, and went back to her story. It took about an hour to recant the whole thing, because she paused in several places, too overcome with emotions to continue for several minutes. When she had finally given the last detail, she sat back in her chair, looking ragged and positively exhausted.

"May I have your permission to also use a Ministry Seer to verify the events you just described?" Dumbledore asked formally. He added in a more normal tone for him, "It's not that I don't believe you, of course. It's just the Minister wants to make sure this is what actually happened and no one has modified your memory."

"You can use a Seer," Lily said.

"Very well. Mr. Potter, do you have anything you wish to add to the account?"

"No, sir."

"Okay then. Now, I think it would be best that the both of you take yourselves up to the hospital wing. I shall see you both soon."

"Yes, sir," they said together, and then took their leave.

Together they walked silently to the hospital wing. Finally James could take it no longer. "Hey Lily?"

She didn't even turn to look at him. "Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" She pulled her blanket more closely about her shoulders.

"I dunno. I'm sorry that you had to kill your father. I'm sorry you had to make a horrible choice between him or me."

"I'm not," she said quietly, stopping abruptly. He stopped, too. "If I could do it over, I'd choose you again any day."

"Really?" he asked, shocked.

"Of course. My father was nothing to me but my tormentor. You're my friend, or at least I'd like to think so, even though I can be a bitch at times. Even if you don't think we're friends, at least _you've_ been there for me, or at least tried. You care about me, which is more than I could have said for my father."

He nodded, unable to speak for the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

For the next few days, Lily and James stayed in the hospital wing, where the nurse Madam Pomfrey tended to their numerous injuries. For most of the time there the two slept. Many times in the night, James would hear Lily sit up abruptly, breathing hard. She would sit like that for a moment, still caught in the clutches of a nightmare, before pulling up her knees, hiding her face and starting to rock, like she had done the night of the murder. He would get out of his bed, which was next to hers, and sit with her until she eventually fell back asleep. She never cried or said a word about her nightmares, but he knew what she must have been feeling.

When Lily received a letter from her mother requesting her appearance at her father's funeral, Dumbledore granted her permission to leave the school. She asked if James could come, because she didn't want to be alone. Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle back in his eyes for the first time in nearly a week, and granted her request. However, he assigned them an escort. The Auror Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody was to accompany them to the funeral and back to school.

So they got back on the Hogwarts Express and journeyed back to Muggle London, this time joined by Moody, who was silent the whole time. The funeral was being held at a church within walking distance of the train station, so it was planned that the teens would attend the service and then walk back to the train, which would then take them back to the school. It seemed that they were seeing more of the train than they ever had before.

Lily dressed austerely in a black velvet dress that fell down to her knees and a pair of black high heels. Since she had let her hair grow out, she was able to pull it back into a simple, tidy bun. She made no effort whatsoever, however, to cover up her black eye or the large, green-ish yellow bruise covering the side of her face. She was apparently ready to show the world what had been going on behind closed doors of the Evans' household. James wore a long sleeved black shirt, a pair of black slacks, and nice dress shoes.

It was drizzling lightly, so they walked to the church under an umbrella. The moment Lily stepped inside, the place went silent with recognition and awe. By now the murder/abuse case had made the news. Many people came up to her and began saying how sorry they were about the abuse and how nothing had ever been done to stop it. She simply nodded to them all, accepting their sympathy and pity with barely disguised disgust.

_Sure,_ she thought angrily as she and James found a pew to sit in. _They're all sorry _now,_ now that he's dead and the abuse is over. They figure sorry just covers it all. One word makes all their guilt just disappear._

The service seemed to drag by, and frankly Lily hardly paid any attention. She sat straight-backed against the pew, staring in front of her, her mind blissfully blank. At last the end came, and people around them began to stand up and move around the room, most whispering and pointing toward Lily and another redhead standing across the room with a tall, balding man in glasses. James assumed this was Lily's mother. And this was proved correct later, as they struggled through the crowd of people to get to the door. The older redhead and the man with her came toward them. James felt Lily tense at his side, saw her clench and unclench her fists. The muscles in her jaw quivered as she clamped her mouth shut forcefully.

"Oh, darling," cooed Karen, coming to embrace her daughter.

Lily stepped back before her mother could touch her. "Mum," she greeted coldly.

"Lily…" Karen reached out as if to touch her daughter's arm, but sighed and let her own arm drop again. She ran her fingers through her own flame-coloured hair so like her daughter's. Her pale eyes—not quite the same shade of green as Lily's—were red-rimmed and bloodshot. "I don't even know what to say. If I had had _any_ idea what you're father had done to you—"

"You knew," Lily spat, interrupting her mother before she had the chance to say anything else. "Of course you knew. You just didn't _care_."

"What?" Karen said, shocked. "Of course I didn't know! Are you saying that I willingly let your father hurt you?"

"You used me—your own _daughter_, for Christ's sake—to get out of your abusive relationship," Lily hissed, her eyes narrowing into angry slits.

Now Karen was starting to get angry. "Well, that's a nasty thing to accuse your mother of! I _never_ would have left you with Dean if I hadn't thought you were safe there, never! And your father never abused me, young lady."

"Why are you still covering up for him?" Lily demanded, fed up. "He's _dead_, Mother! Just admit to yourself what he did to you already! There's no use hiding it anymore!"

"Now you listen here—"

"You have _no_ idea how many times Dad told me things when he was drunk, do you? He told me a lot of things. Apparently there was a whole other side to your relationship, _Mum_."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Karen insisted, lifting her head a little higher in defiance.

James was starting to notice several similarities between mother and daughter that ran deeper than looks. It appeared that both had a mask they hid behind, but when they were together, the masks disappeared and the redheads' emotions came out full force against each other. James decided it would be best to keep quiet during the exchange, however, and apparently so did Karen's boyfriend, Roger. Both stood near their respective redhead for support but remained silent.

"Yes you do!" Lily screamed back at her mother. "Don't try and feed me that bullshit story you've been feeding everyone else, including yourself! Daddy told me what he's done to you. Oh yes," she added upon seeing the look of horror dawning across her mother's face. "It would appear that Dean had a thing for redheads."

"Stop right there, missy," Karen said warningly, glaring back at her daughter, but it was clear that Lily was _not _about to back down.

"I was thirteen when he told me that he had been obsessed with you," she continued, ignoring her mother's protests. "He said that he used to fly into these jealous rages whenever you even _talked_ to another boy. He said that he nearly beat a man to _death_ because he had seen the man hanging around your college campus watching you."

"I'm warning you—"

"He also told me you told him you were pregnant about three months later. Good old Dean thought you'd cheated on him, and he threw you down an entire flight of stairs. You lost the baby. When you threatened to leave him, he beat and then raped you."

There was a long, strained silence. James and Roger waited for Karen to deny this, but she didn't. Lily stared at her mother, her own face expressionless.

"Do you remember what you did after that, _Mum_?" Every time she used her parent's name or title, she said them with such disdain and mocking that Karen winced. "Would you like me to remind you?"

"What I would like you to do is stop being like this," Karen said quietly.

"You _married_ him, Mum, _that's_ what you did. You _married_ the man who destroyed your first baby and then humiliated and degraded you. A normal human being would have left him or called the police, or something like that. But no. You went and _married_ the guy." The last sentence was said slowly, emphasizing every word venomously.

Karen's shoulders fell, and she sighed heavily, suddenly tired. "He said he was sorry, and promised it wouldn't happen again. I loved him, Lily. But I don't expect you to understand that."

"Yeah, kind of like how you love me, right?"

James was shocked at this display of anger and outright disrespect that the girl he loved was showing toward her mother. It might have been partly because he wasn't used to seeing her display much emotion at all, let alone anger directed at someone other than himself.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Karen snapped.

"You stayed with Dad for quite a while. I guess you thought you were happy. You had Petunia, and things seemed to be going great for you. But then I came along, and you finally realized that you now had a way of getting out of this sham of a marriage. I had red hair, like you, and green eyes, like you. You knew he showed more of an interest in me than he had with Petunia, and you exploited that. You knew I was his little pet, his favourite, so to speak. You knew that if you left him he'd let you go, because he had me to remind him of you. That's why you didn't fight for custody of me in the divorce. You simply let him have me."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I ever—honestly! Saying that I would do—" Karen shook her head. "I didn't know he was hurting you, and I didn't think he _would_. He seemed to love you so much, and I just thought you'd—"

"Yeah, he loved me alright," Lily interrupted vehemently. "In fact, he started 'loving' me when I was about seven."

The colour drained from Karen's face, and Roger's brown eyes grew huge. James felt a knot tightening in his stomach, making him want to vomit. He knew this already ugly scene was about to get even worse.

"You don't mean…" Karen stopped, clearly unable to finish.

"If you mean to ask—" the younger redhead started, talking even slower now, spitting out each acid-coated word at her mum's feet—"if Dad ever raped me, the answer is yes."

Karen burst into tears, covering her mouth with one hand, looking positively green. James knew she was fighting the same urge to be sick that he was. He hadn't known that Dean had tortured the redhead so…completely. _No wonder she freaked out that one night in my room_, he thought, thoroughly disgusted. He hated that son of a bitch Lily had for a father, and was glad that he was already dead. Otherwise James might have killed Dean himself.

"You know what he used to call me? His 'beautiful little girl.' That's what he called me when he pinned me to the floor and stripped off my clothes." She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could hold back the flood of memories the way she'd been doing for so long now. Her voice was quieter when she continued, barely above a whisper. "He used to tell me that I was such a strong little girl, because I didn't cry…when I got older, I mean. I used to cry all the time when it first started, and I used to fight him. But then he'd beat me, usually hard enough to make me black out, so I learned to stop fighting back. After a while I didn't need him to hit me to black out; I went numb the second he touched me."

"Please, stop," Karen begged, trying to stop her sobs. Roger wrapped his arms around her shaking body, trying his best to comfort her. "I don't want to hear any more."

Lily slowly opened her eyes; they had a dreamy, far away look to them. She snapped them back into focus upon her mum's face. "Oh, you don't want to hear anymore, do you?" she said. "Well, at least you have the option of not knowing, or remembering. Me? I have to deal with the things he did to me for the rest of my life. And you honestly wondered why I seemed so withdrawn all the time, so unemotional and uncaring? Well, now you know why."

With that, she turned to leave. By then a small crowd had gathered around. "Are you people happy now?" Lily cried, making sure everyone heard her. "Now you know _everything_ that happened! Now you can go gossip about it until some other life-ruining event happens!"

James stepped to her side, carefully taking her elbow in one hand. "Come on, Lily," he said gently, pulling her toward the door. "I think it's time to go."

The redhead nodded, suddenly looking tired and defeated. She let him lead her away while behind her Karen was sobbing uncontrollably.

* * *

A/N: I want to thank SweetSouthernGal, for reading over this chapter and pointing out the stupid mistakes I made while not even realizing it lol. Also, I would like to thank Rae Carson's Mirror, for all of her lovely suggestions to make this story so much better by filling in the missing links, although it make take me some time to fully insert and edit everything. Both of you are seriously wonderful. And to xxlilyandjamesxx, thank you for sharing such a personal part of your history with me. I'm glad you value my work, and I'm glad to hear that you've overcome your difficulties. It gives me strength to overcome my own. 

In fact, to all my reviewers, thank you so much for all your reviews. Without you guys, there would be no point in continuing this, so thanks for the time you took to review—even if it was a really simple, "update soon!" or a more in-depth analysis of the story as a whole. I really, really appreciate it. I don't think I can express how much they all mean to me.

Oooh, and one more thing (I know, when is this EVER going to end, right?! I swear this is the last thing): Next chapter is the chapter where the mysterious forshadowed event with James is finally explained! So now you can stop guessing and finally find out!


	23. Last Resort

As a little beginning note, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to SweetSouthernGal: Consider this a sweet sixteen birthday present! Also, I'm sad to say that I think I may be making this story a bit _too_ angst-y...what do you guys think? If you do, I'd just like to say that...well, things will get better eventually...it's just going to take time.

**Chapter 23 Last Resort**

**I never realize I was spread too thin**

**'Til it was too late, and I was empty within**

**Hungry, feeding on chaos**

**And living in sin**

**Downward spiral, where do I begin?**

**It all started when I lost my mother**

**No love for myself, and no love for another**

**Searching to find a love up on a higher level**

**Finding nothing but questions and devils**

**...Cut my life into pieces**

**This is my last resort**

**Suffocation**

**No breathing**

**Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm, bleeding**

**Last Resort by Papa Roach**

"It's _so_ good to see you!" Nicole cried joyously when Lily and James entered the castle, hugging her redheaded friend fiercely. "You have _no_ idea how worried we all were about you! I thought you'd died or something, and then I heard about—"

"Don't break her ribs now," James interjected cheerfully, a bit too much force behind the words. He glared pointedly at Nicole, a warning for her not to mention the redhead's father.

Nicole let go and took a small step back, glancing at James submissively. "It's just that I'm so happy to have you back!"

Lily smiled a little. "It's alright. Don't worry about it! I'm happy to see you, too. Now, tell me. What all have I missed while I've been gone?"

Nicole immediately began filling the redhead in on everything from homework to the latest gossip of the castle. The group stepped into the Great Hall for dinner, and the school went silent at the site of the redhead. Clearly, as it so often did at the castle, gossip had travelled like wildfire and everyone knew the story of Dean's murder and the circumstances behind it. Nicole continued to chat happily as if nothing had happened, though James knew she was only trying to distract her friend from the array of looks she was getting.

When they had taken their seats at the Gryffindor table, Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat, and the hushed whisper that had begun spreading through the tables stopped.

"In light of recent events," began the headmaster sombrely, "I have asked a friend of mine to come to the school for counselling. Her name is Madam Forster. If anyone feels the need to talk to someone in complete confidence about anything at all, you can go to her office on the third floor."

He sat down once more, and food appeared on the tables. Chatter broke out among the students now, though it was unusually subdued.

"What does he mean, 'in light of recent events'?" Lily asked as she hesitantly put bits of food on her plate.

"Didn't you know?" said Nicole incredulously. The redhead turned to look at her, and shook her head. "Don't you get the Daily Prophet delivered?"

"No. Why?"

Nicole significantly lowered her voice. "There have been a rash of murders in the wizarding world lately," she said. "It's been awful! Students keep getting these letters from the Ministry saying someone's been killed in their family, Muggle-borns and purebloods alike. It's really scary. People keep flinching when they see an owl anywhere."

"Oh," breathed the redhead. "That's horrible. Who's been doing it, murdering all these people?"

"You-know-who," whispered Nicole. She was looking extremely pale.

"Don't be ridiculous," said James. "Say his name, Stone. It's not like he's going to come and murder you right now if you say Voldemort."

Everyone around him except Remus, Sirius and Lily flinched at the name, and then glared openly at him.

Nicole continued, trying to ignore James. "As you can imagine, everyone's really surprised that you're back. There were wild rumours flying around that your family had been attacked by Death Eaters—you know, those creepy followers of you-know-who with the masks, and—"

Lily froze suddenly, her fork right in front of her mouth. Raw images raced through her mind—a man in a bone mask with cold, unforgiving eyes, James laying motionless on the floor, a bloody knife, and her father's body beneath her, his eyes wide and staring, lying in a pool of his own blood. Her fork fell to the table with a clatter, and she put a hand over her mouth to keep from throwing up all over the Gryffindor table.

"What?" Nicole asked worriedly, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Lily couldn't speak; she feared if she opened her mouth she would lose what little dinner she had eaten. Instead she shook her head then quickly stopped as it made her nausea worse. James caught her eye, though, and she knew he understood.

* * *

Throughout the next few weeks, Lily spent all her spare time studying, trying desperately to catch up in all her classes. This being her seventh year, all the teachers gave a huge load of homework each night, so she definitely had her work cut out for her. For the most part, though, she enjoyed being back at the castle, and all the extra work meant that she had very little time to think of anything but homework. She began having fewer nightmares, too.

One evening after dinner, as she sat at a table in the library working diligently on her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay, a piece of her past came back to haunt her.

"Hey there."

She looked up from her steadily growing parchment to see that one Brady Johnson suddenly occupied the chair opposite her. She only took the time to glare icily at him before turning her attention back to her essay.

"Not quite the warm greeting I was expecting," Brady said with a smile. "Aren't you even going to say hello, sweetheart?"

"I'm not your sweetheart anymore," she snapped angrily. "How dare you even speak to me after what you did to me? Do you have _any_ idea of the hell you put me through?"

"Aw, come on baby, I didn't mean anything by it—"

"You tried to rape me," she hissed dangerously, "and now you're saying you 'didn't mean anything by it'? Why don't you just grow up, Brady!"

She pushed back her chair and stood, hurriedly cramming her supplies into her book bag. He stood, too, and reached out to grab her arm gently. "Lily, please, just give me another chance."

"Another chance?" she repeated, her voice now an octave higher than usual. Madam Pince was glaring at her, but she didn't care. "You broke my heart! You used me, and then threw me away like I meant _nothing_ to you! You called me a Mudblood and hit me! Then at James's Christmas party you tried to rape me, and you want a second chance?"

"I know," he said quickly, "I was horrible to you, but I've changed! I'm a better person now. I was just confused, baby. I didn't realize that you had been the best thing to ever come into my life."

"You're lying." Despite herself she could feel tears prickling behind her eyes. She yanked her arm out of his grip and strode out of the library.

He caught up with her in the entrance hall. "Lily, wait," he begged, but she ignored him, quickening her pace. "Please, just listen to me—"

"Go to hell," she spat over her shoulder as she ascended the staircase.

"I love you!" he cried after her, and she froze. "Okay? I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I was just scared. But I'm saying it now."

Slowly she turned around to look down at the boy she had once loved. "_Now_ is too late," she said coldly, her voice breaking, "because _I_ don't love _you_ anymore."

Without another word, she spun on her heel and continued on her way to the Head's common room, her vision swimming with unshed tears. She came bursting through the portrait hole, and collapsed against the nearest wall, heart pounding. Just at that moment, she heard a noise at the top of the staircase leading to James's room, and she abruptly stood and took a couple of deep breaths, composing herself before James came down.

"Hey, Lily," he said cheerfully as he descended the stairs. "Say, have you finished that History of—What's wrong?"

She shook her head and put a smile on her face. "Nothing," she answered quickly.

He frowned at her. "You're lying," he stated.

"No, really," she said earnestly, "it's nothing. I just ran into Brady in the library, that's all. But really, it's not—"

His frown turned into a scowl. "That's not nothing," he said gruffly. "What did _he_ want? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," she said quickly. "He didn't hurt me, James! He just wanted to apologize. He thought we could get back together—"

"You didn't actually forgive him, did you?" he asked suspiciously.

She was frowning now, too. "What do _you_ care if I did or not? It's really none of your business who I date anyway—"

"It's my business when he's the guy who treated you like dirt and then tried to rape you!" James shouted back.

She rolled her eyes. "What are you, my overprotective older brother or something?" she said sarcastically. "Honestly. You should listen to what you're saying."

"Whatever," he snapped back, and left.

* * *

"I don't know who she's trying to fool!" James ranted twenty minutes later, pacing around the office of Madam Forster. "I mean, after all that he did and put her through, she wouldn't _really_ take him back, would she?"

Madam Forster was young, short and thin, with sparkling, friendly brown eyes and long brown hair that she tied loosely away from her face. "From what you've told me about this young lady—" James hadn't used names—"I think she views her ex-boyfriend as a sort of safety net."

He stopped pacing and came to sit in one of the chairs in front of Madam Forster's desk. "What do you mean?"

"You said that her father abused her, right? And you mentioned that her ex also struck her once, correct? Well, with a lot of childhood abuse cases, especially in one where the abuse starts at a young age, I've found that the child starts associating abuse with love. It sounds bizarre, I know. How can anyone love being beaten up, right? But if the abuse has gone on for long periods of time, the child sort of starts to think that everyone is treated the same way, or that their parent is simply expressing their love in a different way."

"So, you're saying that she thinks people love her if they hit her?" James asked incredulously.

"Sort of," Madam Forster answered. "She probably doesn't even know that she thinks that way. It sounds to me as if she's started to think of abuse as attention. As children we tend to crave as much attention as we can get, which is why some kids act out or get in trouble a lot. They think their parents will give them more attention that way. She doesn't want to be ignored or left out, so she lets herself be abused. She thinks, 'Well, at least if he's beating me, he can't ignore me.'"

"But that's absurd," he said, running his fingers through his already messy hair.

"It's what she's used to," Forster said gently.

"I give her attention though," he said after several moments of silence. "Just now, for example. I was only trying to act in her best interest. I know if she gets back together with him, nothing good's going to come of it. She's just going to end up being hurt again. So why did she get so defensive?"

"Well, to me she sounds like a fiercely independent young woman. What you might perceive as help, she views as pity. She thinks you're only trying to be there for her because you feel sorry for her, and she can't stand being pitied. She views it as a weakness."

James was about to say something else, when suddenly there was a quick rapping on the door to the counsellor's office. "Please, come in," called Madam Forster.

Professor McGonagall came hurrying into the room. "I'm sorry to cut this session short," she said breathlessly, her face pale and her eyes oddly shiny. "Potter, you'd better come with me."

It felt as if he was a balloon that had just been deflated. Slowly he stood and followed McGonagall out of the room, a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

It was around 1 o'clock in the morning when suddenly she heard a noise from down in the common room. Ever the light sleeper, Lily rolled out of bed, her wand already in hand, and crept toward her door. Slowly she opened it. There was a feeble light coming from the dying embers in the fire, and she could just make out the silhouette of a figure stumbling around the room, bumping into several chairs.

"_Incendio_," the redhead said, pointing her wand at the fireplace, and immediately a fire leapt up, illuminating the room in its cheerful glow.

The figure whirled around and said, "Oh, it's only you! You scared the hell out of me!"

"James?" she said incredulously, descending the stone staircase to come stand in front of him. "What are you _doing_?"

"Well, I just—"

Suddenly an all too familiar scent filled her nostrils, and she took several steps away from him. "Are you _drunk_, Potter?" she asked coldly.

"Not at all," James said in what he probably thought was a hurt-but-innocent tone. "I assure you, I am cone sold stober, ma'am."

"I can't _believe_ you," she snapped irritably. "Going and getting pissed up at a time like this."

"Why do you care?" he asked dismissively. "Jus' jealous you didn't get to come along, I expect!"

"Oh yeah," she muttered sarcastically. "You got me there, Potter!"

He smirked. "I knew it."

"You are absolutely unbelievable." She turned around, ready to leave stupid James Potter and his drunkenness behind her so she could sleep.

"Oi, Lily!" he called after her. "Why do you do it?"

"Do what?" she asked in spite of herself.

"Starve yourself," he replied, as if it should have been the most obvious answer in the world, and she froze.

"Excuse me?"

"Why do you starve yourself, and make yourself throw up all the time?"

She turned back around. "Why do you care?"

"I dunno," he said, shrugging. "Jus' a wee bit curious, I s'pose."

"Well, why do you cut yourself?"

This seemed to sober him up very quickly indeed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's a pretty straight-forward question, James," she said innocently, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"Who says I've ever done something like that?"

"Me," she said simply. "If I'm wrong, then prove it."

"Fine." Angrily he pushed up his sleeves and turned his arms up, displaying the unmarked skin to her. "See? Nothing."

"There are other places to cut," was all she said, hardly even looking at his arms. "And I think I know where you do yours."

"This is absurd," he said irritably, scowling at her darkly. "I have never, ever—hey, what are you—?"

She was now kneeling on the floor in front of him, and she began to lift up one of his pant legs. Before he could stop her, she exposed one of his calves, sucking in a breath and hesitating before looking up at him with a look of melancholy triumph on her face. There were more than a dozen cuts along the back of the calf, all an angry red colour.

"Told you so," she said softly.

He stepped back quickly, glaring down at the redhead on the floor. "So what?" he snarled defensively. "What do _you_ care?"

"It's bad, you know," she said, sounding off-hand.

"Oh, you're one to talk, Miss I-Had-To-Go-To-The-Hospital-After-Nearly-Starving-Myself-To-Death!" he shouted back.

She stood up, now angry. "I didn't say I was perfect!" she yelled right back. "I never said anything about—"

"Since when you do you even care about me, anyway?" he snapped, going red in the face.

"Since when do you _not_ care about yourself?" she shot back. "For all your talk about me hiding my emotions, you do a pretty damn good job of that yourself! I bet I'm the only one who even _knows_!"

"You didn't answer my question," he hissed. "Why do you even care? You said it yourself, you've never cared about me before!"

"Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

"Why would you want to? You're always talking about how you don't want anyone to save you, so why are you trying to save _me_?"

"I never said _anything_ about saving you—"

"Well then why did you have to go and do that for? Just had to prove a point or something?"

"DON'T BE RIDICULOUS!"

"ME? YOU'RE THE ONE HYPOCRITICALLY JUDGING PEOPLE!" He was getting angrier and angrier by the second, and judging by the murderous look in her eyes, she was, too.

"I haven't judged you, hypocritically or otherwise, Potter!"

"Oh, well then! Ex_cu_se me! Why do you care what I—?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

* * *

A/N: Here it is at last: where the foreshadowed event finally gets explained! The event—which took place back in chapter 18, when I told you to be paying attention—happened to be when James punched the wall while waiting to receive Lily's letter. I believe it says something to the effect of, "He cursed as pain shot up his arm, but somehow the pain seemed to calm him." Hopefully you understand now _why_; he's a cutter. He uses pain as a way to control his more powerful emotions. I also made reference to that in chapter 21, when he's pacing and pinching his arm. Hopefully it makes sense to you all now.


	24. Animal I Have Become

**Chapter 24 Animal I Have Become**

_I can't escape myself_

_So many times I've lied_

_But there's still rage inside_

_Somebody get me through this nightmare_

_I can't control myself_

_So what if you can see the darkest side of me?_

_No one will ever change this animal I have become_

_Help me believe_

_It's not the real me_

_Somebody help me tame this animal I have become_

**Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace**

For a moment both the redheaded girl and bespectacled boy glared at each other. James's anger was deflating fast, being replaced with a strange mixture of euphoria at Lily's confession and exhaustion as the rest of the day's events caught up to him. Lily, however, stood her ground and kept on glaring, even as James's shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Well?" she demanded ten minutes later. "Don't you have anything to say?"

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? He knew he'd been unfair to call her hypocritical when he knew she was only trying to be a good friend. He also knew that there was no point in arguing further; after all, nothing ended a fight faster or more efficiently than a declaration of love. Still, he couldn't quite bring himself to speak.

A muscle in her jaw twitched as she ground her teeth together. "So that's it then," she said flatly. "You're just not going to say anything at all? Well fine. Neither am I, in that case."

As she turned on her heel to go back to her dormitory, he finally found his voice. "She died."

Even though his voice was barely above a whisper, she seemed to hear. Suddenly she stopped, one foot on the bottom stair to her room. "Who died?" she asked softly.

"My mum." He stared at the ground. "That's why I went to Hogsmeade to get drunk, you see. I wanted to forget. I guess I just didn't drink enough."

"Oh, James," she whispered, coming to stand in front of him once again. "Why didn't you say something? I feel like such a bitch now."

"Don't," he told her firmly. "It was me who started that fight in the first place, so don't worry about it."

"Still," she said doubtfully. "I shouldn't have said some of the things I did—"

"I hope you don't mean you regret telling me that you love me," he said with a lopsided grin, and she laughed weakly.

"I do, actually," she said quietly, and his smile faded. "I don't think it was the right time, and I only said it out of anger. You should never tell someone you love him in the middle of a fight. It's not exactly a conducive environment for a good response."

"Well, it sure is an effective way to _end_ a fight," he teased, trying to lighten the mood. "It really throws a person through a loop!"

"I'm starting to realize that," she replied. They lapsed into a long silence, the air heavy with words unsaid. Finally she asked gently, "How did she die?"

"She was murdered," he said hoarsely, sinking onto a couch and running a hand through his perpetually untidy hair. She came to sit next to him, the firelight reflected in her eyes as she studied his profile. "They were both Aurors, her and my dad, with the Ministry. It was Voldemort and his mindless followers," he said savagely, glaring harshly into the leaping flames.

"Oh, James," she said again, sighing and staring into the fire as well. For a moment, that was all she could think to say. Then she said, "That's awful. I'm so sorry."

"It's just not _fair_. You hear people talking about Voldemort and all the evil things he's done, but you never think it can happen to you. It's like _you're_ untouchable, even though you know you're not."

Again, it took a few moments for the redhead to respond. "It's because you're pureblood," she said quietly after a while. She spoke slowly, as if she were still trying to think about her response as she was saying it. "Muggle-borns, like me and Nicole, we _assume_ it's going to happen to us, because we come from a Muggle family and people in the wizarding world, like Voldemort, think we're dirty."

"Which is just ridiculous," James said vehemently, turning to glance down at her. "Magic is magic; it doesn't matter where it comes from."

She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "But anyway. I know what you meant. Muggles are the same way most of the time. They hear about something bad happening, but they just never think it could be them. And you're right; it's not fair. No one should have to deal with their parents dying so soon in life."

It was James's turn to fall silent. He was thinking about the girl's words, and picturing his mum's smiling and happy face, the way he'd last seen her. "She was a good person," he burst out angrily, startling the girl beside him at the suddenness. "No, she was _great_. She didn't deserve to die!"

"Death is a hard thing to wish on anyone," she said gently. "It's hard to say that anyone truly deserves to be murdered."

"Your dad did," James said firmly. "And so does Voldemort."

She looked up at him, their eyes meeting. She said nothing, just looked at him unblinkingly with those breathtakingly beautiful green eyes of hers. For several moments neither one said anything else, simply staring at one another. Then without warning she stood and started for her dormitory.

"Hey Lily," he called after her.

"Yes?" She paused at the bottom of her staircase, looking back at him over her shoulder.

"Did you mean it, when you said you loved me? Honestly?"

"James, I killed my father for you," she said very seriously. "I became a _murderer_ for you. Do you really think I'd say that if I didn't mean it?"

He shook his head and hesitated before asking, "So what does this mean for us?"

Again she made the half-shrugging motion. "I don't know," she said softly, and then climbed the stairs and slipped into her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

James didn't sleep at all that night. He tossed and turned in his bed, tangling himself within his sheets. Something was eating at his thoughts. How had Lily known about him cutting himself? No one _else_ knew. He had exercised extreme caution to ensure no one ever found out, but she'd figured it out. How? Did she also know why he did it?

Finally he gave up his lousy attempts at sleep; he sprang out of bed and began pacing the room like a caged animal. The urge to make more cuts on his leg was almost too much for him. He fought the compulsion, though; what if she decided to go to a teacher about it?

He snorted. She wouldn't go to a teacher about it. In fact, she probably wouldn't tell anyone at all. After all, she knew what it was like to have one's most personal secrets exposed for everyone to see. She knew what it was like to have people look at you and wonder why you did something that you yourself had never questioned before. If there was one person on the earth to understand something like that, it would be Lily Evans. All the teachers in the school and a handful of students—probably more than that, now—knew about her eating disorder, and the entire wizarding and Muggle worlds knew of her father's abuse and how she'd murdered him. They probably didn't know any of the specifics, but they still _knew_. She wouldn't expose James like that.

Still—how had she even known about it?

"You're going to wear a groove in the floor if you keep pacing like that."

His head snapped up to see the redhead leaning against the doorframe of their shared bathroom, watching him with her arms across her chest. "How long have you been standing there?" he asked.

"A few minutes," she replied casually. "I heard you tossing and turning and grumbling in here, and I thought you might be having a nightmare."

"So you came to check on me?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I? You were there for me the week after I killed my father and kept having nightmares. And you already know I care about you."

"Touché," he said.

She crossed the room and came to sit on the end of his bed. "So," she said lightly.

"So," he repeated, sighing.

"Do you want to talk?"

For a moment he thought about using the same exasperating response she usually gave him, "There's nothing to talk about," but decided against it. Instead he took the opportunity to ask, "How did you know about the cuts?"

"I think it's sort of like how you knew about the abuse and my own little problem," she said thoughtfully after a few moments. "I didn't have any physical evidence—not like what you had for me, anyway—but it's more like I recognized something of me in you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" She paused. "It used to infuriate me how you always seemed able to look through me, as if I were made of crystal. But then I started listening more carefully to your words, and watching your actions, and I realized that you had a mask for your emotions, too. And I also began to recognize what your triggers were—what I could to do make your mask fall away, whether or not you were aware of it yourself."

"How did you figure out I was actually cutting, and where?" he asked interestedly, coming to sit next to her.

"At first I just thought you only had a mask," she replied, "but from personal experience, I know you don't just randomly start hiding your emotions. It has to come from _somewhere_, and if you had a reason to be hiding your emotions, you probably had a coping method, too. I knew you didn't have an eating disorder like me, because I would have known. Then I noticed that a lot of times, during classes, you would bend down and touch your leg. Normally no one would think much of this—a harmless gesture, maybe an itch, even. But I put it together with everything else I knew."

He shook his head, a small amazed smile making the corners of his lips twitch. "Leave it to you to figure all that out without me knowing," he said wryly, turning to grin at her. "You really are a clever witch!"

She shrugged, but she too was smiling a little. "It really wasn't that hard, once I started looking more closely at certain things."

"Well no one else has done that," he told her matter-of-factly. "Not even Sirius and Remus know."

"Really?" she said, somewhat surprised. "I thought they would be the only ones to know!"

"Nope."

"You never told me why though," she said suddenly after a few moments of silence. "I have a few guesses, but I'd like to hear it from you."

"You never answered _my_ question, about why you do what you do," he pointed out. "You first."

She lowered her eyes, and then said quietly, "I thought mine was pretty obvious."

"Why then?" he pressed. "Because of your dad, or the way everyone teased you?"

"I just want to be beautiful," she said slowly, her voice barely audible.

"But you are!" he said firmly, shocked. She did all that just to be "beautiful" when she already was? "You always _were_, Lily! You don't have to starve yourself to do it, either."

She lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. "Your turn," was all she said, her voice cracking slightly.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't really know how it started," he began awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Do you remember that morning you told me you thought my parents worked all the time to get away from me?"

Slowly she nodded; that had been the day her father had come to get her. It seemed like it had been ages ago, like years instead of weeks.

"You remember how upset I got about it, then," he said shortly, staring at a spot somewhere above her head. "That's because I thought that, too. I thought the only reason they could have possibly wanted to work so much was so they wouldn't have to be around me, their only son. I thought I'd done something to make them hate me."

"I'm sure they don't hate you," she said gently, placing a hand on his arm.

"Then why weren't they around?" he said darkly, looking down at her now, his eyes flashing behind his glasses. "I was practically raised by house elves and nannies! They missed my first word, Lily. They weren't there when I took my first steps, or when I did my first bit of magic. They were scarcely ever there! And now my mum won't get to see anything else, either! She'll miss it _all_!"

James realized that she was suddenly leaning away from him, her eyes looking scared as she stared up at him. "Y-you're hurting me," she murmured, voice trembling.

He looked down and his stomach clenched into a tight and sickening knot. He'd grabbed onto the arm that she had set on his without even realizing it, his fingers wrapped around her wrist in a tight grip. He quickly let go, startled at his own behaviour.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered.

She stood and glanced at the bathroom door, then looked back at him with the same frightened look on her face. He stood, too, and made to take a step toward her, but she quickly took several steps backward and he stopped moving, a pained expression crossing his face.

"Lily, _please_," he said softly, reached a hand out as if to touch her, but let it fall as she flinched. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize—"

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but words seemed to have forsaken her. Finally she shook her head, turned around without saying anything at all, and went back to her room.


	25. Baby Come On

**Chapter 25 Baby Come On**

_She's a pretty girl_

_She's always falling down_

_And I think I just fell in love with her_

…_And I can always find her at the bottom of a plastic cup_

_Drowning in drunk sincerity_

_A sad and lonely girl_

_Quit crying your eyes out_

_Quit crying your eyes out_

_And baby come on_

…_And she said, "I think we're running out of alcohol,_

_Tonight I hate this fucking town_

…_So please take me far away before I melt into the ground"_

…_You sad and lonely girl_

**Baby Come On by +44**

The day after the incident with Lily in his bedroom, James sat beneath a tree, tossing small rocks into the lake, thinking about said occurrence. The redhead hadn't spoken to him all day, and avoided looking at him in classes. It was really starting to get to him. He really couldn't blame her, though. He could hardly believe the way he had treated her, either. Of course he hadn't _meant_ to hurt her—he would _never, ever_ do anything to purposefully hurt her—but he'd been blinded by his rage, had let it get the best of him.

He threw a rock at the lake with more force than he'd intended, and then watched with fascination as the glassy surface of the water shattered and exploded as ripples spread out from the point of the rock's impact. One rock, with a bit of muscle behind it. That's all it took to disturb the enormity of the lake. His expression turned dark. It was exactly like the wizarding world right now. One maniac with a few mindless followers, and the whole world was thrown into chaos.

"Hi," said a soft, tentative voice from beside him; for one wild, hopeful moment James thought it was Lily, but it wasn't. It was Remus.

"Hey, Moony." A huge, deep sigh escaped him as he stared across the grounds once more.

"How are you?" Remus inquired gently, sitting down in the grass alongside James. "Have a killer headache from the hangover, I'm guessing?"

"Actually, no," James said, a faint note of surprise in his own voice. He hadn't even noticed that, as he'd been too wrapped up in his dark musings. "I'm not hung-over at all, as a matter of fact."

Remus's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Because, Prongs, you downed quite a bit of firewhisky last night, mate. You were pretty pissed when Sirius, Peter and I dropped you off at your common room."

"I know," James answered, puzzled, frowning in thought. "Of course, I was made to sober up pretty quickly last night when I got back."

"Oh?" his werewolf friend asked curiously.

"Yeah. Lily and I—we, uh, we sort of had a bit of a row," James started awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair. "Then she just—she, well…I mean…"

"Spit it out," Remus said, punching his friend on the arm teasingly. "What did she do?"

James's cheeks went slightly pink and he quickly turned away to toss another stone into the great depths of the lake.

"You're going to irritate the giant squid if you don't stop that, you know."

"I know."

Pause. "So, what happened with Lily last night, hey?"

Mumble, mumble.

"What? Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"She told me that she…that she, uh, loved me." When he looked up to look at his friend, James saw that Remus was sitting quite still, staring straight in front of him, his eyes wide, as if he hadn't heard a word James had just said. Thinking Remus maybe needed him to repeat it, James said, "Lily 'I-will-never-date-Potter-I'd-rather-die-or-kill-him-first' Evans told me she loved me."

Remus coughed a few times, as if he had suddenly begun to choke on air. "Are you _joking_?" he finally said, several moments later.

"Nope. She said it all right."

Another pause, this one much longer than the last time. "Well, what did _you_ say?" Remus asked. Then he grinned and socked James again playfully. "When's the wedding?"

"I-I didn't say anything," James admitted awkwardly.

"_What_?" Remus burst out. "What do you _mean_, you didn't say anything? _Nothing_?"

"I dunno, I just sort of…froze up!" James said defensively, running his fingers through his hair again nervously.

"But _why_? I mean, you've loved her for _ages_—"

"I know! I know, okay? I screwed up! I _know_ that!"

"Sorry," Remus said softly, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder sympathetically. "I just can't believe you wouldn't say anything to her after that. I just thought you'd've been ecstatic, that's all."

"I was. I mean, I was _so_ happy, but…jeez, I don't know. I was so shocked, too. I _never_ expected her to come out and say that, never in a million years, and then, suddenly, there it is, outta fucking _nowhere_, while we're in the middle of a _fight_, for crying out loud."

"So, now what are you doing to do? Have you told her yet?"

James sighed miserably. "No. I don't even know why, Moony. I've told a _million_ girls that I loved them, and it wasn't even true, but now when I really _do_ mean it, I can't say a word! And then I _really_ screwed things up."

"Why? What _else_ could you possibly do to that girl, after all the pranks we've pulled?" His tone was light and teasing.

"It wasn't a prank," James snapped, and Remus withdrew his hand. "Sorry, mate. I was just telling her about…about my mum, and my dad, too, actually. You know the story, about how they've never really _been_ there, you know?"

Remus nodded. "I know," he said softly.

"I just…I got so _angry_, not at Lily, of course. But at _them_, both of them," James continued, the dark expression sliding back across his face. "I wasn't really paying attention, I guess. I grabbed her arm, hard, Moony. Oh, Jesus. She looked _so_ scared. She was scared of _me_. I _hurt_ her."

For a long time they were both silent. Finally Remus said, "You've got to tell her, James."

"But…" He trailed away, swallowing and purposefully avoiding Remus's eyes. He sighed, and tried again. His voice was down to a whisper now. "I'm…scared, Remus."

"I know you are, Prongs. But that doesn't change anything. You love her. She loves you. She _told_ you she does. Now you've got to tell her, or you might lose the one thing worth living for."

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

"—Evans?"

Lily's head jerked, and she peeled her face from between the pages of her Ancient Runes book, rubbing at her burning eyes groggily. _I must have dozed off_, she thought, peering around blearily at her surroundings. She was in the library, sitting at a table by herself with parchment and books spread all around her.

"Miss Evans?" the voice that had woken her prompted again.

Lily looked up into the face of Professor Slughorn, the potions master. Panic rushed through her insides, and she stood up so fast several books fell off the table. "Professor! Oh, no! I've missed my lessons! I've—"

He held up a hand and chuckled merrily. "No, no, no, dear girl. It's nothing like _that_!" he said heartily. "Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you up in his office, that's all!"

"Oh, thank goodness." She breathed a huge sigh of relief, then began to pack up the parchment, inkbottles, quills and books scattered hither and thither about the table, shoving it all into her book bag.

Slughorn stood off to the side, watching her gather her supplies, rocking on the balls of his feet with his hands in the pockets of his robes. He seemed nervous.

"Um, Professor, you really don't have to wait for me," Lily said kindly. "I know where Professor Dumbledore's office is, you know, with me being Head Girl and all."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you first," Slughorn said, quite awkwardly. "About—well, I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need anyone to, uh, talk to…well, I think you'll find that I'm a very good listener!"

She blinked, clearly caught off-guard at these words. "Thank you, Professor," she said slowly after a moment of extremely awkward silence. "I appreciate the sentiment."

Seemingly relieved of some huge burden, Slughorn grinned, patted her on the shoulder in a paternal sort of way, and then strode out of the library. Lily stared after him, bemused, then shook her head and left, too.

"Ah, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said pleasantly when she knocked on the partially open door hesitantly. "Please, come in. Butterscotch?"

She politely declined the brightly wrapped candy he proffered her and nervously sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "Forgive me for being blunt, Professor, but what—"

"Am I late?" called a loud voice from the hallway, and Lily swivelled in her chair to watch as a harassed looking wizard dressed in the most violently neon green robes she had ever seen stepped into the office as well. "So, she's already arrived then?"

She felt a rise of indignation at these words. Why was he speaking to Dumbledore as if she wasn't even sitting there?

"It would appear so, wouldn't it?" said Dumbledore pleasantly, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Lily was becoming more and more confused by the second. First James last night, then Slughorn in the library, and now this? What _was_ this, the official "Let's Makes Lily Evans's Life a Living Hell Anyway We Can" week or something?

"Miss Evans, this is Fernandez Kane, with the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore introduced. "Fernandez, this is Lily Evans, as I'm sure you know by now."

"Yes, yes," said Kane briskly. "Let's get straight to the point here, shall we? Try to make it nice and quick—yes, that's the idea here." He sat in the other chair opposite of the headmaster's desk. "Miss Evans, I have several questions for you regarding the murder of your father, Dean Evans, on the night of—"

"I _know_ what day it was," she interrupted coolly.

Kane looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "Moving right along. You claimed to have been under the Imperius curse, correct?"

"Perhaps we should wait for the other witness, Mr. Kane," Dumbledore said before Lily had the chance to angrily reply. "I do believe I hear him now—ah, yes. There he is. Come in, please, Mr. Potter."

Yep. It was official. This was most definitely LMLELLAHAWC week.

"Fernandez Kane, this is James Potter," Dumbledore said, also offering James a butterscotch candy, which he took with a grin.

Kane was looking even tetchier. "_Now_ can we proceed?" he asked irritably. "Would you like for me to repeat the question, Miss Evans?"

"No," she said instantly. "I can remember what you asked me, _Mr._ Kane. Yes, I was put under the Imperius curse the night I killed my father. But you already know that, because Professor Dumbledore told me that officials had marked that two of the three Unforgivable curses were performed in my house that night."

He was scribbling something down with a quill and piece of parchment she hadn't seen there before. "Right. Do you remember what the 'wizard in the mask' asked you to do while under the curse?"

"He told me to first pick up the knife—"

"The murder weapon?"

_No, the knife to cut up the chicken with_, she wanted to snap, but she bit her tongue. "Yes. After that, he told me to remember…" Her voice trailed away as a lump formed a solid barrier in her throat, preventing her from speaking.

"Remember?" repeated Kane, his eyebrows raised. "Remember_ what_, exactly?"

Lily opened and closed her mouth a few times, swallowing against the lump. "Just…just remember…"

"_Yes_?" There was barely disguised frustration in Kane's voice as he prodded her to answer.

"Hey, give her a minute," James said gruffly.

Kane turned to him, regarding him with dislike. "Well, while she's gathering her wits about her, then, we'll go to you. What do _you_ remember from that night, Mr. Potter, was it?"

"I got a letter I thought was from Lily, asking me to meet her at her house, so I went, but when I got there she had no idea about the letter. Then some guy in a mask showed up—he was a Death Eater, I know it—and…well, I don't remember much else," he finished, somewhat lamely. "Everything's pretty fuzzy."

Scribble, scribble, scribble. "Right. Okay then." Kane turned his gaze back upon the redhead. "Can you answer my question now?"

She glared at him with all her strength—a death glare that made full-grown wizards quake, a look James was all too familiar with—and James noted with a certain amount of satisfaction that Kane was looking very uncomfortable.

"He made me remember all the times Dean beat and raped me," she spat.

Kane made a note on the parchment, his fingers shaking slightly. He had to clear his throat before he was able to continue. "Did he tell you to kill your father while you were under the curse?"

Lily glanced nervously at Dumbledore, then at James, and then back again. "N-not exactly," she admitted, twisting her hands in her lap.

"Interesting." Another note.

"Look, am I going to get in trouble for—"

"You said he used the boy—" There was a noise of outraged indignation from James at this—"as a sort of bait for you?"

"It's time _you_ answered one of _my_ questions, Mr. Kane," Lily said coolly, regaining her cold confidence again. She _detested_ this man. She really, really did. "Am I going to get in trouble for murdering my father?"

It took several long, strained moments before he answered her. "No, I don't believe you will. Technically, it wasn't your fault—"

"So I'm not going to be punished for it?"

He sighed. "No. Now, can we please get back to _my _questions?"

For the next two hours, Lily sat as Kane interrogated her about the circumstances of her father's death. She was seriously about to slap that stupid face of his when he announced, "All finished then. You two can go."

"Actually," said Dumbledore, "I'd like to speak to them before they leave. I'll be seeing you, Fernandez."

As soon as those hideous green robes had swished around the corner and out of sight, Lily demanded, "What was _that_ about?" Her cheeks were tinted pink in her anger.

"Ministry inquiry," Dumbledore answered, offering them each another butterscotch candy; both declined, but the headmaster took one for himself. "Naturally, the Ministry's in a fuss about the whole situation, in light of the recent attacks and such. It seems as if Voldemort is steadily growing stronger, and is gaining more and more followers."

"Disgusting," James spat scathingly, though he wasn't looking at either Dumbledore or Lily.

"I tried to keep the officials at bay as long as I could, in order for you to rest and take a break from thinking about the incident at all," Dumbledore continued to Lily, as if he hadn't heard James's outburst.

The redhead nodded, and then sighed, a long, tired sound. "Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate that. I needed some time to not think for a while."

They both stood up, but Lily hesitated in the doorway. Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. "Is there something else on your mind, Miss Evans?"

She swallowed and finally brought her gaze to meet his. "Why would Voldemort make me kill my father? Why does he care about the trivial affairs of a Muggle family?"

The smile vanished, being replaced by a much darker look that honestly scared her more than anything she'd ever seen. "I don't know," the old Headmaster said. "But it certainly is an unusual bout of cruelty, even for Voldemort. Miss Evans, I'm going to suggest that you are very careful from this point on."

These words left her far from reassured. In fact, they terrified her even further.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

That night at dinner, the students were significantly more subdued than normal. It was utterly depressing to Lily, for some reason. Normally, she'd be glad for the relative quietness compared to the loud clamour usually present at meal times. But not right then; she wanted it to be loud and noisy, full of laughter and giggles like it usually was. When it was so quiet, all that she had to do was think, because there were no pointless, easy conversations to carry.

It was dangerous to let her think so much. Why on earth had that stupid Death Eater made her kill her father? What had it accomplished, really? She hadn't even gotten in trouble for it. So _why?_ Just to make her a murderer or something? Well, no, that couldn't be it, because…well, what point was there in making her a murderer if she didn't get in trouble? And why hadn't he—the Death Eater—just killed Lily and her father alone? After all, Lily was a Muggle-born (_dirty_, in the opinion of all Death Eaters and they're ruthless master), and her father was a useless Muggle. Why bring James into all this? Why make her choose between them?

She pushed her plate away and left the table, ignoring Nicole's question and the Marauders' curious looks (well, three of them, anyway; James was noticeably absent, which was just as well for Lily). She left the hall without saying a word, leaving her friends and barely touched dinner behind in favour of the Heads' common room.

Unfortunately for her, James was there, too, sprawled out on the couch closest to the fire with a bottle of firewhisky dangling from one hand as he stared blankly into the flames. She cringed at the smell of alcohol and let her breath out in a part exasperated, part sympathetic hiss. He glanced up at her and blanched. She could just ignore him and walk up to her dorm, but she decided instead to sit on the floor in front of the couch, pulling her knees against her chest and wrapping her arms around them, resting her chin on the top of her knees.

"Hello," he said softly. "Whiskey?"

She stared with disgust at the bottle of alcohol he offered her. "No," she said shortly.

"I think it'll help you," he told her absently, taking another mouthful straight from the bottle and cringing. "Makes you go numb."

"I don't think being numb is the problem," she said softly.

"Well, it makes you stop thinking," he said cajolingly, offering her the bottle again.

This time she seized it and took a gulp before he had the chance to warn her. The liquid seared her throat and brought heat to every inch of her body, even more so than plain butter beer did. She nearly gagged, shuddering even though she was extremely warm. James reached for the bottle, thinking she'd had enough, but she took another swig, swallowing painfully, beginning to feel sort of woozy.

"You know something?" she said a moment later, clutching the bottle tightly in her fist. "Sometimes I really _hate_ the wizarding world."

"_What_?" he said, startled and thinking the alcohol had somehow befuddled his mind and he'd merely heard her wrong—which indeed was a possibility. He had already consumed quite a bit of the bottle.

"Sure, doing magic is all well and good," she continued, swaying slightly as she took another gulp of firewhiskey. "But what's the point if there's nothing you can do to stop bad things from happening?"

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully, once again reaching for the bottle and this time prying it from her fingers. He didn't think all that alcohol was good for her. After all, given her body weight, it was bound to effect her a great deal more than a normal person.

"Well, when I first got my letter to Hogwarts, I thought, 'Oh, great! Now I have a way of self-defence. I can protect myself from being hurt now. Nothing can touch me, because I have _magic_ on my side.' I didn't realize how _wrong_ that was. Just look at this idiot Voldemort, for example. He's killing everyone, Muggles and wizards alike. Being magic is no better than being a Muggle, is it?"

"At least when you're magic you have _some_ chance of fighting back," James said slowly, slightly alarmed at her words.

"But in the end, it doesn't matter, does it?" she said softly, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "In the end, you still die, don't you? Magic or not, there's no way to stop a killing curse."

He swallowed. It was hard to admit, but she certainly had a point. He shook his head. "In the end, it _does_ matter. I'd rather go down fighting for something I believe in than just cowering. In the end, _that's_ what matters. That you fought."

For a moment she was silent. Then she stood, grabbed the bottle back from him, and took another swig. "I'm going to bed," she declared, wobbling dangerously on her feet before stumbling up the staircase to her dormitory, holding onto the railing as if her life depended on it.

When she had slammed her door shut, James stared back at the fire, swallowed a huge gulp of firewhiskey and whispered hoarsely after her, "I love you…and in the end, that's what _really_ matters."

Now if he could only tell her that face to face.

* * *

A/N: Well, first of all I just wanted to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. I haven't updated for over a month now, but it's been really, really hectic around here lately, what with my sister coming home from the Navy on leave and my parents scrambling to put as many activities in two weeks as humanly possible. On the bright side, school's finally out so I'll have more time to work on this and my other story, as well as a few other things I've been putting off for the summer. I know this wasn't the best chapter, either, and I really have spent quite a bit of time trying to perfect it, but unfortunately, I just haven't found a way to get it absolutely right so I figured I'd just update and see what you guys had to say; maybe with some suggestions (hint hint) I could finally get it perfect, or at least satisfactory.


	26. Vulnerable

**Chapter 26 Vulnerable**

_I was born to tell you I love you_

_But isn't that a song already?_

_I get a B in originality_

_And it's true I can't go on without you_

_Your smile makes me see clearer_

…_and your slowly shaking fingertips show_

_That you're scared like me so_

_Let's pretend we're alone_

_And I know we're unprepared_

_But I don't care_

_Tell me tell me what makes you think that you are invincible?_

_I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure_

_Please don't tell me I'm the only one that's vulnerable_

**Vulnerable by Secondhand Serenade**

The next day, which was a Saturday, Lily did not make an appearance at breakfast or lunch. James, too, was noticeably absent at breakfast, although he did show up for lunch, ravenous and quite pale, with dark shadows beneath his eyes. He caused a first year girl to burst into tears when he shouted at her for not passing him the salt shaker fast enough, then issued a very gruff apology when McGonagall came to reprimand him.

"Oi Prongs. What's with you?" Sirius asked when McGonagall left again. "You haven't reduce a girl to tears in quite a while!"

"What's wrong with _me_?" James snapped angrily, turning on Sirius, who drew back at the murderous look in his friend's eyes. "My _mother_ _died_, Padfoot! _That's_ what's wrong with me!"

The Gryffindor table went very silent as the very bad-tempered James stabbed viciously at his chicken with his fork. He knew he should apologize for being an ass, but at the same time, he could not bring himself to swallow his pride long enough to do so. His head was pounding, and he was sincerely regretting finishing that bottle of firewhiskey the night before.

"Where's Lily?" Nicole asked hesitantly, pouring black coffee into the empty goblet in front of his plate.

He snorted. "How should _I_ know? I'm not her caretaker."

Her bottom lip trembled, but she bit down on it. "Well, I just thought you might have seen her, maybe in your common room?" she said, her voice hopeful and scared at the same time. "She hasn't been around all day, and I'm sort of getting worried."

"She's fine," he growled. "Just sleeping off the effects of her first ever hangover, I'd imagine."

"You got her drunk?" she asked, disbelief edging her voice.

His first instinct was to fiercely deny this, but it had been he who'd offered her the whiskey in the first place, so he shrugged and said somewhat defensively, "I might have offered her a few drinks of my firewhiskey."

"Well, that certainly explains why you're so edgy," Sirius muttered beneath this breath, which earned him a kick from Remus under the table. "Ouch! What'd you do that for, Moony?"

"So you haven't seen her at all since last night then?" Nicole pressed, ignoring Sirius and Remus who were now heatedly discussing something that sounded a lot like, "manners," "common courtesy," "grieving," and "insensitivity" in low voices, glaring at each other. "It's just that she hasn't been eating again, and I'm just wor—"

James scowled at these words. "She's just in shock," he snarled in such a fierce voice that it left no room for argument on the subject. "You would be too, if you killed _your_ father!"

But Nicole was not to be deterred. "You know, I was thinking," she said in a rush, piling more food onto James's plate, "that maybe we could convince her to go see that therapist woman. Madam Forster? I think that would really do some good. Maybe she could overcome all of her past, and move on. It would be really great if she could do that."

"Well good luck getting her up there," he told her dryly. "Personally, I'd hate to be the one that asks her to go. Those hexes of hers certainly pack a wallop."

"Well," Nicole said slowly, a thoughtful look on her pretty face, "perhaps we could simply talk to her then. We're her friends. She's bound to listen to us, right?"

"Listen and get very, very angry," he answered grumpily. Why was she insisting on pursuing this? An angry Lily was a dangerous Lily, and James had lots of firsthand experience on this subject.

"I really think she needs to _talk_," she said, as if reading his thoughts. "If she keeps hiding everything and refusing to face it, she's going to end up even worse than before—maybe even wind up dead. I just want to help her."

Nicole was right, and James knew it. If Lily really did keep repressing her feelings, nothing good would come of it. But how were they supposed to approach her without having her shut them out? He'd already made a huge mistake by not acknowledging her love. How was he to know that she already hadn't closed herself off to him?

"Oh, all right," he said finally, heaving a huge sigh. "We'll try to talk to her, but if she ends up hating us all, you should know that I will hold you wholly, personally accountable."

Nicole's face lit up in a smile despite the words. "She'll thank us for this one day."

Somehow, he doubted that.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

Lily was indeed sleeping off the hangover the firewhiskey had bestowed upon her. She had hardly left her bed all day, for she found moving too much was intensely painful, but when she slept, her dreams were often haunted with images of her father lying in a pool of his own blood. She was in the clutches of a particularly horrible nightmare when she was jolted awake by the sound of someone's fist pounding on her door. She merely grunted, however, and rolled over, trying to ignore it.

The sound came again, though, and this time it was accompanied by a voice. "Lily? Are you awake?"

_How can I _not_ be, with all that noise you're making?!_ she wanted to shout back, but her throat and lips were terribly dry. So she gingerly got out of bed and strode to the door and swung it open, glaring.

Nicole took a step back, clearly alarmed at the murderous look in those red-rimmed, glassy green eyes. "I was wondering if you'd like to talk," she said nervously.

A delicate red eyebrow rose as Lily glanced around at the four Marauders standing around her black-haired friend. For a moment her eyes met those the colour of melted chocolate, and her look hardened even more, if such a thing was possible.

"Talk?" she repeated in a raspy voice, returning her eyes to the only other girl.

Nicole nodded hesitantly. "I thought you might want to talk about what happened with your fath—"

They were suddenly met with the back of the wooden door. The redhead had slammed it shut so forcefully that the breeze from its passage swept across their faces, ruffling their hair.

"Well, that went splendidly," James quipped dryly, not even slightly fazed by the glare Nicole shot him. Compared to those of Lily Evans, most glares were nothing but a simple glance.

"You could have _helped_ me a bit," she snapped irritably as the five of them descended the stairs to the common room.

"I tried to warn you, Stone," he replied easily, shrugging his shoulders. "Lily doesn't _talk_ about things when asked. She only offers titbits of information when you get her really, really angry and she looses control, or she _chooses_ to talk. Just asking nicely isn't going to do the trick."

"Well, if _you're_ so smart, why can't you get her to talk then?"

"Because currently, she isn't speaking at all to me," James admitted awkwardly. "Besides, I'd rather wait until she's _ready_ to talk before hassling her about it."

"Maybe I could try again, with just me this time, though," Nicole said thoughtfully, ignoring James. "She talked to me before, back when she was crying in the girls' lavatory. Maybe she just doesn't want to talk in front of you guys."

James rolled his eyes. This girl was beyond stubborn. She was completely unaware of the fact that Lily clearly did not want to talk to anyone. And it wasn't like he hadn't tried to tell her just to let it go. She just couldn't take _no_ for an answer apparently.

The Marauders watched as Nicole promptly turned around and bounced back up the stairs to knock once again on Lily's door.

"Can't you control that girl?" James asked Sirius in dismay.

Sirius shot his friend a calculating look. "What do you want me to do, put a leash on her?"

"She certainly is determined," Remus remarked, shaking his head as Nicole called through the wood into the den of the redheaded monster beyond the door.

The door was suddenly jerked open so quickly that the girl pounding on it nearly fell inside. None of the boys envied Nicole as she once again came face to face with the extremely miffed Lily. "STOP. BANGING. ON. MY. DOOR. OR. I. WILL. BASH. YOUR. HEAD. IN," she snarled, emphasizing each word very slowly and dangerously, and Nicole looked rather frightened.

"May I come in?" she asked timidly, wringing her hands in front of her. "Please?"

"Well, she's certainly got the whole 'get-Lily-really-angry-until-she-looses-control-and-starts-talking' part down, doesn't she?" said Peter, cowering behind Sirius as if for protection.

To the boys' astonishment, however, Nicole disappeared into Lily's room, the door shutting behind her.

"Look, Nicole, I know you're only trying to help me," Lily said when she'd closed the door again. "But seriously. I don't _need_ to talk. I'd actually just rather sleep. All right?"

"But isn't there _anything_ you'd like to say?" Nicole asked incredulously, sitting down on the side of the bed.

The redhead heaved a huge sigh. Apparently this was not going to be as easy as she'd expected. "What's there to talk about? He abused me. I killed him. It's over."

"Yeah, but…" The other girl hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "Well, don't you feel guilty about it? I know that if I'd killed _my_ father, I'd feel awful!"

"_Your_ father never abused you, Nicole," the redhead snapped furiously. She sucked in a breath and tried to put a clamp around her temper. "He never felt guilty when he beat and raped me. Why should I be sorry that I killed him to save James's life?"

"I guess you're right," Nicole said quietly after a moment. "So you don't feel bad at all?"

"I'm sorry that I had to make his death so gruesome by using a knife rather than an Unforgivable Curse," Lily admitted. She looked thoughtful. "However, after I was put under the Imperius curse, it really didn't matter what I used to do it. I regret it now though."

Nicole stood up again and headed for the door. "Well, I'm sorry you had to do it at all. I wish things weren't so hard for you all the time, Lily. If there was anyone in the world who deserves a better life right now, it's you."

Lily was speechless. It was quite possibly the nicest thing someone had ever said to her—or at least in a very long time.

"You should probably go back to bed. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Lily nodded and watched Nicole smile lightly and exit the room, closing the door gently behind her.

"Perhaps I should apologize for being so mean," the redhead mused aloud as she got up and began to pace around her room. "She really is only trying to help me. She's such a good friend, and I've been awful."

_But do you really want friends anymore_? a small voice asked in the back of her mind. _It'd be much easier to just let everyone think you're a horrible person. Then no one would want to get close. Friends just cause trouble. Voldemort exploited your feelings for James to turn you into a murderer._

A small ache began pulsing in the pit of her stomach. Her feelings for James…that were apparently not returned. Though, if she was completely honest with herself, she didn't see how she could ever expect him to feel anything for her. He knew every bad aspect of her life. She was dirty now, used and then tossed away. How could _anyone _love her?

The aching turned into hot anger. No. She _knew_ he felt something for her, and she was going to make him tell her what it was. She was in control of her life now, and no one could take that away from her. She crossed the room to her bed and sat down, carefully arranging her plan.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

"Hurry up Wormtail, would you?" Sirius snapped at the small rotund boy, who had tripped over his untied shoelace and now lay sprawled on his face at the top of James's Head Boy staircase.

"Sorry!" squeaked Peter, quickly sitting up and tying his shoelaces before jumping up once again.

"Remus should be walking down to the grounds with Madam Pomfrey right now," James said, checking his watch impatiently. "We've got to hurry, or we'll be late."

"If we are, you can blame Captain Clumsy here," Sirius said sorely, shooting a reproachful look over his shoulder at Peter.

"Stop arguing!" James snapped. "Moony needs us, and all this ridiculous bickering is only going to slow us down. Now come on."

They made their way silently down the stone steps, and James was just pulling his Invisibility cloak out when a small noise like someone clearing their throat made them all jump and whirl around. Lily stood by the dying fire with her arms across her chest, her form outlined with a red glow from the embers behind her.

The three boys stared at her incredulously for several moments, until Sirius spoke up quietly, pushing James forward slightly. "Go on, mate. Go deal with her. Fast."

"Hi," James said, feeling extremely awkward all of a sudden. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied evenly. "But instead, I'll answer you. I need to know something."

"Uh…" he said, looking back over his shoulders and Peter and Sirius, who looked nervous and irritated, respectively. James knew they couldn't hear what he and Lily were saying, though, because they were too far away.

"Do you love me?" she asked simply.

He nearly began choking. "W-what?" he spluttered, trying to recover himself.

Her expression was mild and blank. "Do you love me?" she repeated.

Behind him, he could hear Sirius sighing impatiently. "Uh, listen…do you think we could do this later? I'm kind of in a hurry."

She shrugged indifferently. "Answer my question, and we'll be done here."

"Lily, I can't do this here," he said desperately, searching her face, though for what he couldn't be sure. "Not now."

"Now is all I've got left," she whispered, holding his gaze steadily with hers. "I can't think about the past, and I don't even know if I have a future."

"Well, you at least have a future of tomorrow," he said, practically begging now. "So we can talk about it then, can't we? I promise—as soon as you want to talk tomorrow, I will do it. Just not _now_."

"Come _on_, Prongs!" Sirius called.

"Lily, _please_!" He gently put his hands on her shoulders, moving slowly so he wouldn't take her by surprise. "Tomorrow, okay?"

"If it's not now, James, it's not ever. If you don't tell me one way or the other tonight, there won't be a tomorrow for you to tell me."

For a split second, James was terrified about the possibilities behind those words—did that mean she was planning on committing suicide if he didn't tell her? —but then he looked carefully into her eyes and came to a realization that was almost as frightening. If he couldn't tell her right now, she would shut him out forever. He could read between the lines of her words to know that she was on the edge of falling into herself, the same way she had after she realized she'd murdered her father. She was incredibly close to giving up on _everything_.

And he had the power to stop her. She was giving him the perfect opportunity to finally tell her what he'd been trying to say for ages.

"Evans, just let him go, all right?" Sirius called angrily. "We're in a really big hurry. You don't understand—"

"Oh, I think I understand more than you give me credit for, Black," she replied coolly, never taking her eyes from James's.

It felt as if the breath had been knocked from his chest. She _knew_ about Remus being a werewolf? Then he wanted to kick himself. Of course she knew. She wasn't stupid. She was simply using this event to give James an idea of the rushed, panicky situation he'd put her in. She had confessed that she loved him, and he had said nothing. She was letting him know that she'd been sorely hurt by this, and felt extremely panicked that she'd done the wrong thing.

As he stared into those empty-looking eyes, he realized that there was something under that emptiness. Vulnerability. Fear. She was exposing everything she was for him, throwing it all out there. _This is me,_ she seemed to say. _Take it or leave it._

Seeing that fear and vulnerability in her eyes gave him courage. This scared her, too. But unlike him, she actually had the courage to do something about that fear. Yeah, she was terrified that it would end up like everything else in her life had, but she was still willing to take a chance. And if the girl who had lost absolutely everything she could ever possibly lose was willing to put stock into a relationship with him, then he highly doubted he could let his fear hinder it.

"I love you, Lily Evans," he breathed at last.

The rigidity of her form melted away. She seemed to almost collapse with relief. She swallowed and nodded, taking a step back so his arms fell from her shoulders. With a small smile that warmed every corner of his very soul, she tipped her head in the direction of Sirius and Peter, who were watching the scene with bemusement.

All he wanted to do was sweep her up in his arms and twirl her around until she was a giggling, dizzy mess, but he couldn't. Instead, he beamed at her and went back to the other two. He threw the Invisibility cloak around them and the three of them left through the portrait hole, making their way down to the dark grounds lit only by the huge, silvery full moon.

* * *

A/N: Ah, finally James gets something right lol! Sorry about the long wait in updating. I've been trying to balance two jobs lately, as well as spending time with friends and my boyfriend, as I didn't get to hang out with anyone very much over the last school year, and I've also had my hands full trying to take care of my mom because she's been devestated by a death in the family, and...well, you get the idea, I'm sure! But anyway, I just wanted to give you guys a heads up about the future of this story. No, this is not the last chapter, but I believe the last one will be chapter 30. For future reference, however, I'm planning on writing a sequel, because knowing the way I'm going to end this story, there will be tons of unanswered questions and there's no way I can't NOT write another story...but yeah. I just thought I'd let you lovely, lovely people know what I was planning. So yeah. Please, please, please review! 


	27. Snow White Queen

**Chapter 27 My Snow White Queen** (A/N: I'm excited about this song, because it just so happens to describe both the point of view of Voldemort AND Lily! Sorry, I'm a bit of a nerd sometimes lol) 

_**Voldemort's POV**:_

_You belong to me_

_My snow white queen_

_There's no where to run_

_So let's get it over_

_Soon I know you'll see_

_You're just like me_

_Don't scream anymore my love_

_Cuz all I want is you_

_**Lily's POV**:_

_Wake up in a dream_

_Frozen fear_

_All your hands on me_

_I can't scream_

_I can't escape the twisted way you think of me_

I feel you in my dreams and I don't sleep 

**My Snow White Queen by Evanescence**

Welsh kneeled before his master, his head lowered respectfully.

"You have served me well," the cold, high voice of Lord Voldemort said. "You did exactly as I asked, and you accomplished the task I gave you, though you had a bit of trouble with the girl. You've done very well indeed."

"Thank you, my Lord," Welsh replied modestly, though inside he was glowing. Finally he had been able to prove himself to his master! That would show the other Death Eaters, the ones that always mocked him. He had pleased the Dark Lord!

"However, there is one more thing I would ask of you," his master continued, looking down upon his kneeling servant with disdain.

"Anything for you, my Lord."

"Notify the spies within the castle and tell them it is their duty to me to kidnap the girl and bring her to the Forbidden Forest, where you will be waiting to bring her here. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord. It will be done."

"Do not screw this up, Welsh. Tell the same to the others. It will not be in your favours to displease me."

"Yes, my Lord."

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

The night after James had finally professed his love for Lily, just after everyone had gone to bed, James and Sirius met up in the entrance hall. It was the last night of the full moon for the month, and they were about to go meet Remus.

"Where's Peter?" James whispered, looking around the surrounding hallways for the chubby boy that always hung around the group. "Isn't he coming?"

"Dunno," Sirius answered, shrugging. "I haven't seen ole Wormtail anywhere."

"Me neither," James whispered. "I haven't seen him all day, actually."

"Well, we can't stand around all night waiting for him. He's probably in the kitchens, getting even fatter," Sirius said, then turned and opened the door. He and James climbed under the Invisibility cloak, and they hurried out onto the grounds.

There was a slight breeze, which considerably slowed their pace, for they had to ensure that one of their body parts didn't suddenly come uncovered with the wind. At last they could see the Whomping Willow, and automatically their pace hastened, eager to reach the tree before the moon rose.

Suddenly the boys heard a piercing scream off to their left, coming from the Forbidden Forest. They froze, horrified, and waited to see if the noise came again. It didn't, though, and so they slowly made their way toward the tree in front of them.

"What do you suppose that was?" James asked, his gaze shifting back to the line of trees beside them.

"I dunno," Sirius answered, trembling now with both the cold and fear. "But it didn't sound very comforting."

"Do you think it was a student?" James whispered, staring into the forest, trying to penetrate its darkness as if he could see whoever had screamed. "Who would be stupid enough to go in _there_ after dark?"

"I dunno, but it didn't sound like they'll be alive much longer," Sirius replied solemnly, and they gave a simultaneous shudder that was not entirely caused by the icy gust of wind.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

Lily was patrolling the hallways of the castle, making sure no students were out of bed. She had gone to wake James up to go with her, but he hadn't been in his bed, and she realized too late that of course he'd be with Remus and the others by now; so she'd gone on ahead to patrol without him. She heard a noise down a corridor to her right, and she stopped, swinging her wand in the direction she'd heard the noise, the light from the tip of the wood illuminating her way.

She took a few steps down the hallway before someone reached out from behind a suit of armour and grabbed her wand, extinguishing the light so everything was dark. Before she had the chance to cry out in alarm, another hand was covering her mouth and the tip of a wand was shoved in her back.

Then she was being forcefully led away, though in which direction she couldn't be certain. Her eyes had yet to fully adjust to the total darkness, and before she was given the chance she felt a strip of cloth being tied around her eyes by the hands of the person who wasn't holding her mouth.

"Hurry up," a voice hissed from beside her. "We don't have a lot of time, you know!"

"I know, I know," another voice answered sorely.

She struggled against her captor's tight hold against her mouth, clawing at their hand with her nails. He let out a sharp curse and jabbed his wand painfully between her shoulder blades.

"Stop struggling, or I'll _make_ you stop," he said angrily, and helplessly she let her hands fall once again, her eyes pricking with tears of frustration and a little fear.

They hurried through the castle, then out into the bitterly cold night. She could not be sure where they were taking her, other than away from the castle. Then she heard the harsh call of a crow, heard the wind rushing through many trees, and her panic returned full force. _The Forbidden Forest?_ she thought wildly. _What could they possibly want with me in here?_

Suddenly an idea hit her; it was so simple, she had to wonder why she hadn't thought of it before. She bit down as hard as she could on her kidnapper's palm, and he howled with pain and released her. As soon as his hand fell away from her mouth, the redhead let out a high-pitched shriek full of panic, desperation, and most of all, fear. It took a few seconds for her captors to get reorganized and seize her once more, a stronger hand clamping over her mouth this time, cutting her scream off abruptly.

"_Fools!_" a third voice hissed angrily. "I told you to keep her quiet!"

"I—we tried—she bit me!" whined the one who had been holding her.

"Why didn't you just _gag_ her? Or better yet, use your wands! Honestly! I thought even _you_ would have been smart enough to use your magic!"

There was a long silence, during which Lily's stressed mind tried to place the third voice; it sounded so familiar, but since he was whispering, it was hard to hear his voice properly. She fought against the arms of her current captor, and heard a grunt as she managed to elbow him in the stomach.

"Oh, for—" The third man bit back his curse.

Her blindfold was removed, and suddenly she was staring into the eyes of someone all too familiar to her. The world spun around her, and it felt as if her throat was closing. Her mouth went very dry.

"_You_," she choked.

Welsh grinned coldly from behind his mask. "Hello, Red. Did you miss me?"

Before she had the chance to reply there was a noise, like someone shouting, followed by the noises of someone crashing through the trees. Welsh cursed, and all four people turned to see as someone came rushing through the bushes toward them. Lily turned to look just as something very heavy collided with the side of her head, and she went limp, the world falling away.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

When she awoke next everything was dark. Her limbs felt heavy and her head was throbbing. She could hear hushed whispers all around her. After a few moments her brain began to process what she knew. She seemed to be in a sort of crouching position; her wrists were bound together above her head with what she thought must be some sort of invisible heavy chains, and her feet were tucked up underneath her. Her head felt like it weighed a good ten pounds heavier than the rest of her body, but she managed to lift it up slightly. What she saw made the breath leave her body in a soft _whoosh._

She was in a large circular stone room, lit only by the scant light of a few torches in the sconces along the wall. The flickering light cast horrifying shadows across the wall of all the figures in long black robes and the same bone masks that had been plaguing the redhead's nightmares since the night she'd murdered her father. Directly across the room from her was a tall figure—the lone person who did not wear a mask.

Upon hearing a noise beside her, Lily turned and nearly choked on the breath she had just gotten back. "What are _you_ doing here?" she whispered.

"Same thing _you_ are, I expect," James croaked back, licking his dry lips and smiling wryly.

"Where did you come from, though?" she pressed. "I didn't see you—"

"That's because that Welsh guy knocked you out cold," he nearly growled back. "I was out on the grounds with Sirius and we heard someone scream. I went running into the forest to see what was going on, and then Welsh punched your temple and you went limp. I tried to fight back, but there were three of them…and then I woke up here, just a few moments before you."

"I wonder where _here_ is though. But that's good, because at least Sirius knows something. He knows we were in the forest. He can tell Dumbledore—"

"Oh, I wouldn't count on your precious headmaster to save you," sneered a high, cold voice. Icy cold shivers ran down the length of Lily's spine at the sound of the voice.

The whispering grew into an excited murmur, and suddenly the voice cut through all the chatter. "It would appear as if our guest of honour is finally awake," it drawled. "I was getting worried that Welsh had hit you a little _too_ hard." There was an undercurrent of malice in his voice, and a few sniggers went through the crowd at the small whimper following the words.

"You're wrong," James said defiantly, his voice cutting through the giggles. Complete hush fell, the masked figures shocked into silence.

"Excuse me?" said the source of the voice coldly. "What did you just say to me, boy?"

"I said you were wrong," James replied matter-of-factly. "Dumbledore will find us. After all, he _is_ the greatest wizard of all time, you know."

There was a rise in angry hissing at these words, and the only unmasked figure of the crowd—the one to whom the cold voice belonged, Lily guessed—stepped toward the imprisoned teens. The redhead nearly cried out as the man—or rather, what must have been a man at one point in his life—stepped into the flicking light of the torches. His eyes were blood red, narrowed in anger, and his nostrils were mere slits, like that of a snake.

"That old prune, the greatest wizard of all time?" snarled the man/snake thing. "No! _I_ am the greatest wizard of all time, and you would do well to remember that, you insolent little boy!"

"You wish, Voldemort," spat James, glaring and shaking in his rage. "You're nothing more but a power-hungry murderer!"

Lily thought for a moment that it would soon be all over for the boy next to her, and she closed her eyes, too afraid to watch as Voldemort whipped his wand out from inside his robes. But suddenly she felt the tip of said wand touch her own cheek, and she started, opening her eyes in surprise to find Voldemort standing in front of her now. To her horror their eyes met, and try as she might, she could not wrench her gaze from his.

A flick of his wrist brought the wand running through her hair. "Such lovely red hair," Voldemort whispered, at last breaking the eye contact to look instead at her hair. She sighed in relief, glad to not be staring into those horrid red eyes any longer. Without turning around, he snapped at his underlings, "Leave us."

"But my Lord," said one of the shorter masked figures sulkily, a witch by the sound of the voice.

"I said leave us," hissed Voldemort, still not turning away from the redhead. There were about two-dozen loud _cracks_ as the witches and wizards in the room Disapparated.

"Get your hands off of her!" James shouted furiously as Voldemort stroked the side of Lily's face. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes and saw that he was struggling so hard against the magical chains holding him that they were biting into his skin, blood welling up dark red against the invisible metal. He seemed not to notice, however.

Voldemort ignored the boy's rage, and grasped Lily's chin in his fingers, yanking her face back so she once again was looking into his eyes. She screwed her eyes shut, fighting back the bile creeping up her throat at his touches.

"You're beautiful," he whispered in her ear. "Just like your mother."

At this her eyes snapped open. "W-what?" she managed to gasp.

"That's right. I knew your mother," he said, stroking her hair now. She was having a hard time breathing. "I used to see her every day back when she was in college. I'd never seen such a beautiful person, even if she was a Muggle. I was disgusted to see her with that…that pathetic _excuse_ of a man who beat her and treated her as if she wasn't important. I could have treated her like a queen. Such a pity that she was a Muggle."

Lily said nothing, her mind racing.

"You look just like her," Voldemort continued, as if he didn't notice her obvious terror and disgust. "Thankfully you didn't inherit any of your unworthy father's traits." At the mention of Dean, the redhead's stomach lurched. "You wouldn't _imagine_ my delight upon realizing that you were accepted to Hogwarts. Yes, even though you are a Mudblood, I still knew that one day I would have to meet you. I've been watching you these past few years."

"Y-you're the m-m-man my father thought my mum was cheating on him with, aren't you?"

His expression darkened. "Yes," he said, absently pulling painfully on a strand of red hair so that she winced. "That idiot thought Karen had been unfaithful to him. He was such a filthy man. Gratefully I don't have to worry about him tainting you to be like him anymore."

It felt as if her entire world was being turned upside down. "But why did you make me kill him? What do you want with me?"

Voldemort laughed. It was the most horrible sound she had ever heard. High-pitched and cold as dry ice, his laugh was anything but welcoming and happy. "Can't you guess by now? Your mother was once my obsession. I have never forgotten her, to this day. But now _you_ are my obsession. _You will be mine, Lily Evans._"

"Go to hell!" she spat, but her voice was weak, and her body was trembling. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be _real_.

Once again he laughed, though this time it was an angry sound. "So much spirit," he crooned. "I'm going to take such pleasure in breaking it."

"Why?" she whispered. "Why are you doing this?"

"You're beautiful," he repeated simply, once again running his long, thin fingers through her hair. "And you have so much power and raw anger. Together that makes a most deadly combination. I plan to make you into my secret weapon against those idiots trying to defeat me."

"I will never work for you," she said coldly, pouring every bit of strength she could muster behind the words. She stared into those blood red eyes defiantly. "I would rather _die_ first."

"That won't be necessary," he said calmly. "Either you will willingly join my ranks and stay at my side, or you will be cursed into obedience. It's your choice, really, but I have a feeling you're going to come willingly." 

At last he let go of her hair and stepped away from her, but he didn't go far. James glared so fiercely at Voldemort that quite frankly Lily would have been scared witless if it had been her body pinned under that wilting stare. Almost too late, Lily realized what was going on, and she began shaking her head.

"No," she said weakly, still shaking her head in denial.

"What was that?" Voldemort asked, his soft voice almost gleeful as he pointed his wand at James's chest.

"Please don't," Lily begged, almost too scared to watch anymore.

"I could do it, you know," Voldemort said coldly, now staring into James's eyes. "One flick of my wrist and some well-spoken words, and your precious _boyfriend_ would be dead, and I'd have you all to myself."

She began to sob. "P-please don't kill him. _Please_."

"Give me a reason not to." The wand was now positioned over the boy's heart.

"Don't do it," James snapped furiously to Lily. "Don't you dare join him!"

"He'll kill you!" she protested weakly. "I'd never forgive myself for letting you get killed when I could stop it. I'm sorry."

"Lily, no! Don't do it!"

"I have to, James. I'm so sorry."

"NO! Don't give in, damn it! We can fight this, together! Just don't give up!"

"Tic tock, tic tock," drawled Voldemort, jabbing the wand into James's chest. "Make your choice, my dear. You join me and the boy goes free, or I kill him and _make_ you join me. I would have thought it was an easy choice."

She shot a scared look at James, and their eyes met briefly. Those brown eyes were begging her not to do it, to just let him die rather than join ranks with his mother's murderer. The lids closed over those pools of melted emeralds, closing off his silent protests.

"Fine," she whispered. "I'll do it. I'll join you."

Slumping in her magical bonds in defeat, she tried to shield both her ears and her heart from the howls of rage coming from the boy next to her.

* * *

A/N: So I feel kind of bad for ruining Lily's happiness...I mean, she FINALLY gets to be happy, and then the evil author squishes it like a bug. I've actually been putting this chapter off for quite a while now. I originally planned for it to be chapter 23, but I kept trying to find another way to have the story end...but I just couldn't get rid of this. I'm not happy about it, but it's just the way it's got to be. Furthermore, I can't figure out if the last chapter's going to be the 29th, or 30th. I think the last chapter of a story is the hardest to write. However, I'm going to stop boring you all with my babbling so you can all go and review! Thanks


	28. Lillian

A/N: Finally I update! Three days later than I'd planned on, but I've been feeling really overwhelmed by the future lately (the side-effects of being a senior in high school, I guess, when everyone's putting the pressure on you for college plans and such) so I haven't had a lot of time to write. In fact, this is the first time I've updated a chapter without the next chapter already being written. Yep, that's right, I'm _still_ not done with chapter 29. I'm not proud of it, but I'm getting there at least. I think it's harder and harder to write, however, once you start getting closer to the end of the story (at least for me, anyway).

We're getting close to the end...aren't you all excited?? Well, I am anyway lol. I can promise you it's going to be a pretty interesting finish, followed as you all know by now, a sequel leading all the way up to the deaths of Lily and James.

So, just as a little beginning note: you are more than likely going to be confused in this chapter, but please bear with me. It will get better, I promise. The information is just going to come in bits and pieces throughout the next few chapters. There's another note about this at the bottom of the chapter, but I just wanted you guys to know you're probably going to be confused before you actually read the chapter, so when you hit the confusion part, you won't just give up, you'll know it's going to get better. You're also going to think that Lily's a royal bitch in this chapter and might even end up hating her in some parts, but it'll all be explained, I promise.

**Chapter 28 Lillian**

_Your heart is a grave to be perfectly honest_

_Your mouth's a smoking gun_

_And you smile while you're twisting the knife in my stomach_

_Until everything is gone_

_Take all you can from me_

_I've got weak constitution_

_I'm led so easily_

…_No, you don't know the difference between love and submission_

**Lillian by +44**

James abruptly woke, bolting into an upright position in his bed, sweat rolling down his forehead and obstructing his vision. He quickly swiped at his eyes and groped along the bedside table for his glasses. Jumping out of bed, he crossed to the bathroom, his heartbeat loud in his ears. The door to Lily's room was unlocked, he noted with substantial relief.

As the light from the bathroom reached the bed, he was further relieved to see the redhead curled up there, sleeping peacefully. Perhaps it had only been a horrible nightmare. The girl didn't seem to have joined forces with the darkest evil, that was for sure. In fact, with the faint light touching her features, she looked rather angelic.

Shaking his head at his silly behaviour and sure that he and Lily would have a good laugh about it in the morning, James gently closed the door on her sleeping form, flicked off the bathroom light, and headed back into his own room, where his dreams were no longer burdened with the horrible sight of the girl he loved slumped over in defeat after having surrendered herself to the ultimate evil.

A few hours later as he stood at the bottom of the Head Girl's staircase, he realized that he had been very, very wrong. The redhead no longer looked angelic, glaring down at him with her cold eyes filled with what he could only describe as hatred.

"Lily?" he said tentatively, startled at her behaviour.

"What are you doing, Potter?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and continuing to glare at him.

"I thought we could go to breakfast together," he replied, his brows knitting together as he frowned.

"Why on earth would I want to go anywhere with _you_?" she snapped angrily. "Have you lost what little mind you had, Potter?"

_Was_ he going mad? Three nights ago, the same girl had stood in front of him and demanded to know if he loved her, and now she was treating him like the dirt beneath her feet. Had he missed something? What had _happened_ in the course of—?

The dream. Or, rather, _not_ the dream, but what had really happened. It hadn't been a dream after all. Lily really had surrendered herself to Voldemort in order to spare James's life, but that didn't really explain her behaviour now. Well, okay, now that he thought about it, he supposed Voldemort could have put some sort of enchantment on her, to alter her memories, for instance, or perhaps even the Imperius curse to ensure her obedience.

"You don't remember?" he asked softly, his heart sinking.

"Remember what?" she asked loftily, brushing past him with a scowl still firmly etched into her features.

When he didn't answer, she turned around to look at him, one hand on her hip and her eyebrows arched. He was acting so _oddly_. What was wrong with him? They had never been even close to what she would consider being friends, and now suddenly he was waiting at the bottom of her staircase to walk to breakfast together, looking like he had just swallowed a two-ton brick as she walked away. It didn't make any sense.

"Whatever, Potter. I think you need to go see Madam Pomfrey about that temporary lapse of your sanity," she told him snidely, to cover up her slight confusion.

Again, he didn't reply, didn't even turn around to look at her. He simply stood there at the bottom of the stairs as if someone had sent the body-binding curse his way. Lily shook her head and left the common room, leaving James alone to do whatever he planned on doing. But no matter how hard she tried to forget it, she could not erase the image of him standing at the bottom of her staircase as she'd come out of her room, looking happy and hopeful, and then the way he'd looked so…_heartbroken_ when he'd made that comment about remembering.

That was another thing bothering her. What was she supposed to have remembered? Or, perhaps more importantly, what had she forgotten?

Once again she shook her head, dislodging all the silly thoughts swarming around in her brain. She had her lord. That's all that really mattered.

**u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n u n**

People were definitely acting oddly; Lily was certain of it now. Before she had just passed it off as herself being paranoid, but now there was no mistaking it. Nicole Stone had tried approaching her a grand total of six times that day. Each time they spoke, the girl seemed to become more and more distressed. Their final encounter had ended with the black-haired goddess dissolving into tears and running away, leaving Lily standing in the middle of the hallway, blinking in confusion. On top of that, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had also made contact with her. They had tried to keep the conversation light and casual, and Lily had done her best to maintain it, but she knew they were really up to something, although to what it was, she hadn't a clue. Even a few of the professors had stopped in the halls to ask her if she was okay.

It was all getting slightly ridiculous. She had _no_ idea why everyone seemed so concerned about her all of a sudden. Why, just the other day they hadn't spared her a second glance. Something was definitely not right. She wasn't sure how she was going to figure out what was going on until she spotted Lupin and Black conversing in hushed voices as she passed the library. Purely on whim she swerved away from her path to the entrance doors and detoured to the library, marching straight up to the table the two boys were sitting at, and plopped herself into a chair.

They looked up, startled. "Evans!" said Sirius, looking highly uncomfortable, which was something very new to Lily. She'd never seen the suave devil looking even slightly caught off-guard. "W-what are you doing here?"

Her eyes narrowed, her voice chilly with ice, she said, "Listen up, you two, because I'm only going to say this once. I want—no, I _demand_ to know what's going on around here."

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Remus said in what was clearly meant to be a smooth voice. To the redhead, however, it sounded suspiciously guilty.

"Why is everyone suddenly so interested in talking to me?" she asked coldly. "Everyone has been acting so oddly today, and I want to know why, and I know you know, so don't even try to play dumb."

"Who's playing?" muttered Sirius, but quickly shut up as Lily turned those green lasers on him.

"I think you should talk to James," Remus said suddenly, after a period of tense silence.

"And just what is that supposed to accomplish? Even he's acting psychotic. What could he tell me that you two can't?"

"A lot," the boys answered cryptically in unison.

"Everyone here has gone completely bonkers," she declared disdainfully as she gracefully rose to her feet once more and exited the library.

She strode through the castle doors and crossed the grounds, fingering the wand in her pocket as she grew nearer to the Forbidden Forest. No matter how composed and confident she thought she was, she was unable to suppress a shudder as sudden darkness closed over her and trees pressed at her from every direction. Why had he asked her to meet him _here_, of all places? Who even knew what lurked around in all these trees? She had certainly heard her fair share of rumours, and knowing Hagrid's odd love of exotic—and dangerous—creatures, she wouldn't be surprised if some of the tales were true.

At last she came to a clearing, the first space she had seen that was completely bare of any tree or brush, and so, gripping her lit wand tightly, she sat down on the ground and waited with increasing impatience as the minutes ticked by. Finally she heard a noise to her left, and she stood to meet the body coming toward her.

"You?" she said incredulously as Brady stepped into the ring of light produced by Lily's outstretched wand. "_You're_ the spy inside the castle Lord Voldemort wanted me to meet?"

Brady flinched at the name, but stepped closer to the redhead. "Why so surprised, sweetheart?" he said suavely, grinning toothily at her. "It's almost as rare to find a seventh year Slytherin _not_ in service to the dark lord as it is to find a Gryffindor who _is_."

She glared coldly at these words, and moved her wand tip so it was pointing at his chest now, and she noted with a feeling of great satisfaction that apprehension crossed his features. "Are you suggesting that I'm not loyal to our master, _honey_?"

She spat the last word scathingly, and her glee was further heightened when he flinched just as he had at the mention of their lord's name.

"Are you actually _scared_ of me, Brady Johnson, the almighty master of women?" she asked in a mockingly innocent voice, fake shock playing over her features.

"Should I be?" he sneered, glaring at her now.

As she stepped toward him, he stepped back, and she laughed scornfully. "Of course you should," she whispered dangerously, jabbing the tip of her wand into his chest painfully. "I bet you never imagined this happening that night you rejected me, did you? You never thought that _you'd_ be the one cowering from _me_ the next time we met."

He swallowed, beads of sweat appearing at his hairline. His fear was so strong it was nearly tangible; she could practically smell it. "You only think you're intimidating because you're his little pet," he spat, obviously hoping to cover up his fear with snarling words.

"I don't have to _think_ I'm intimidating," she crooned, enjoying his fear of her. She was finally the one with the power now. She saw him gulp, and an expression similar to the mad grin she'd worn after breaking Monica's nose crossed her face.

"Lord Voldemort," she began loudly, watching him cringe and grinning even more widely, "came crawling to _me_! He asked for _my_ help! He, unlike you, you pathetic scumbag, recognized something special about me, and also unlike you, he's able to appreciate me. You're just a pathetic crony, Brady, a mindless follower who does what he's told because he's scared to do anything else. But I…"

She paused for effect, then laughed again, tossing back her head and laughing shrilly to the sky.

"I'm not his pet, you disgusting excuse for a human being, I'm his _equal_! He _needs_ me, whereas you…" Once again she paused, looking over his form contemptuously. "You could die tonight and he wouldn't think twice about it. You're replaceable, Brady. _I'm_ priceless. And you'll do well to remember that."

He nodded obediently, submissively, and sank to his knees before her, just like he would if she'd been Voldemort himself. A look of smug superiority replaced the insane smirk as she stared down at the kneeling boy before her.

"Now," she whispered satisfactorily. "Tell me what it is he wants for you to tell me."

"There's a meeting, tomorrow night at the headquarters," he said quickly, his head still lowered respectfully. "The dark lord wishes you to attend. He couldn't risk directly contacting you, though, because you are always so closely watched by all the teachers."

"Very well," she said dismissively. "Leave me now. I grow bored of your presence."

"Yes, my lady." He stood, and, still not meeting her eyes, turned and left back the way he'd come.

Once again her lips upturned in a most sinister smile. "My lady" certainly _did_ have a nice ring to it, didn't it? That meeting tomorrow night seemed like the perfect opportunity for her to make very clear to all the Death Eaters what she had made clear to Brady; she was not one of them, but _above_ them. She was _finally_ the one in control!

Fifteen minutes later, Lily was standing behind a suit of armour near the portrait of the unicorn leading into the Heads common room. Standing just outside the portrait were Nicole and James, apparently arguing about something.

"I can't believe you're just going to give up on her!" Nicole was saying, disbelief and anger edging her voice.

"What else can I do, Stone?" James asked wearily, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. He cleaned his specs on his robe and then replaced them.

"Talk to her! I dunno, just…you _can't_ give up on her! She needs you, James!"

"How am I supposed to talk to her when she doesn't even remember? She thinks nothing happened between us. I've been edited out of her entire existence, Nicole."

From her hiding space, the redhead saw a look of sympathy cross the other girl's face, and when she next spoke, her voice was soft. "You can help her remember. Tell her what happened, and maybe it'll trigger something and she'll remember."

"She's under a spell! You don't seem to understand that. You can't 'trigger' someone out of a memory modification spell. It's not going to work. There's no point in even trying."

Anger replaced the look of sympathy as Nicole snapped, "You can't just give up! _You love her_, in case you've forgotten! And she loves you, too, deep down, and you know it. The James Potter _I _know would _never_ give up on Lily Evans, no matter what happened."

"Yeah, well things change," James snapped back, his hold slipping over his patience. He tried to reign it back in. "Look. You weren't there that night with her, okay? You didn't see what happened, or what she did. She doesn't need me anymore. She gave me _up_ to be with…with…" He was so disgusted, he couldn't even say the name.

Nicole actually stamped her foot in frustration. "I may not have been there, but from what you've told me and the boys, she did what she did for you! She did it to save you. That's _twice_ now that she's done something horrible just to save you, and yet here you are, refusing to help her because you think it's 'pointless to even try.' Seems to me a _really_ poor way to repay that kind of love and devotion and commitment!"

James's eyes flashed. "I never asked her to give up _anything_ for me! She had a _choice_, and she chose to go to evil instead of fighting! We could have fought!"

"Fought and _died_! She knew you two didn't stand a chance against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and she _chose_ to let you live instead! If you two were dead, you didn't stand a chance at anything, being together, fighting, nothing. Alive, at least you have a chance. She _gave_ you that choice for a reason."

For a moment, he said nothing. "She didn't have to do it," he said at last. "I told her not to do it, not to give in. I also told her that I'd rather die fighting than give in to cowardice. She chose the latter."

It was Nicole's turn to be quiet, although somehow Lily knew the girl was silently fuming, so angry she was speechless, though how Lily knew this about a girl she hardly ever spoke to, she couldn't be sure.

"A-are you actually _mad_ at her?" Nicole finally managed to splutter.

"She's supposed to love me enough to know that I'd rather _die_ than have her or me or anyone else I know and love go over to that monster's side!" It seemed that he'd finally unleashed the heart of his anger; he'd gone from sounding tiredly frustrated to enraged in a second. "She should have _known_!"

"Is this why you're giving up on her?" Nicole asked after a moment of seemingly trying to control her own anger. After a few more careful breaths, she went on, "You're angry with her because she 'gave in to cowardice,' and so you're refusing to help her? Is that what this is all about?"

"She submitted," James persisted stubbornly. "I told her not to, and she did anyway. She was supposed to be strong, but she failed."

Nicole took a step back from him, her hands balled into fists at her sides, her back ramrod straight. She seemed to be so angry at this point that all emotion had been sucked out of her voice. "Are you really saying that you're angry because she saved your life?"

"Not when you say it that way," James protested awkwardly, shoving a hand through his hair. "I'm angry because—"

"Are you really going to give up on her?" she cut in before he could finish.

He sighed, and then shrugged hopelessly, hanging his head.

"Then you don't deserve her."

The words weren't shouted at the top of her lungs, nor did they sound particularly cruel, but all the same, James's head snapped up as she turned and walked in the opposite direction, not once looking back, leaving him to stare after her in shock. The words sounded almost gentle, but all the same, James felt like she had just punched him in the stomach.

* * *

A/N: Okay, now I know a lot of you are probably pretty confused right now. I really haven't explained very much in this chapter, but I need to save some for the next chapter. Basically though, Voldemort has altered Lily's memory so she no longer remembers being friends with the Marauders and Nicole, nor does she remember loving James. It should all become clearer in the next few chapters, though. Oh, and before I forget, in the last chapter there seemed to be a little confusion about Lily's mum and Voldemort. I didn't mean to imply that they had gone to the same university, because of course the supreme Muggle-hater Voldemort would not go to a Muggle school after graduating from Hogwarts. Again, more details of this will be explained in the next chapter (or so), so just bear with me, okay? 


	29. Holy Water

**Chapter 29 Holy Water**

_Somewhere there's a stolen halo_

…_Someone ran away with her innocence_

_A memory she can't get out of her head_

_And I can only imagine what she's feeling when she's praying_

_Kneeling at the edge of the bed_

_She wants someone to call her angel_

_Someone to put the light back in her eyes_

_She's looking through the faces and unfamiliar places_

_She needs someone to hear her when she cries_

…_She just needs a little help_

_To wash away the pain she's felt_

_She wants to feel the healing hands of someone who wants her_

**Holy Water by Big and Rich**

Lily could not stop thinking about the exchange that had taken place between Nicole and James. The whole thing seemed completely odd, and no matter how hard she tried, the redhead could not force herself to forget about the whole thing. It consumed her every waking moment, and refused to let her sleep. What _was_ this whole business about what she'd apparently forgotten? What was she supposed to remember? Clearly it was important; it kept coming up during conversations involving James. But what was it?

She could gather from what she'd heard of the argument between Nicole and James last night that they seemed to think something had gone on between Lily and James—which seemed to be what she'd forgotten, though the details were extremely fuzzy—and she also guessed that they thought she'd gone unwillingly to the Dark Lord's side, which was ridiculous. When asked to join his noble cause, Lily had jumped at the chance. Lord Voldemort had been more like a father to her this past year than her _real_ father had ever been, even while sober.

Lily could not stop feeling that she was getting really close to figuring the whole thing out, if only she could remember what it was that she'd forgotten. Trying to figure it out felt similar to trying to remember someone's name; she felt it was on the tip of her tongue, but the more she tried to think about it, the harder and harder it got to remember.

Finally, completely unable to get even a moment's rest from her racing thoughts, Lily abandoned all pretences of trying to sleep and stole downstairs to the main common room, her lit wand held out in front of her while she searched the numerous bookcases around the room. She recalled seeing a book on one of the shelves that dealt specifically with memory modification spells. If she really _had_ been put under a spell, she could probably find her symptoms in that book, and then she'd know for sure.

She was unable to even imagine that Voldemort would want to put a memory spell on her. She was probably his most loyal subject, more like his daughter than follower. Why would he try and keep something from her?

_Then again, if I were under a spell, of course I'd think that_, she mused, searching through the shelves with a sinking feeling growing inside her all the time. Finally her fingers skimmed over a book with the title of _Memory Modification Spells And Their Impact Over The Past Century_. Holding her wand gently between her teeth, she managed to work the thick tome out of its place on the shelf, snugly positioned between other lengthy volumes.

She was just flipping through the table of contents when she heard a noise at the top of the Head Boy's staircase. Instead of looking up, she continued scanning the pages before her, searching for something useful. Footsteps could now be heard descending the stone steps slowly, pausing at the bottom, then continuing toward where she was seated. She felt slight pressure next to her on the couch as he sat himself down.

He didn't ask her what she was doing out of bed in the middle of the night, and she acted as if he wasn't even there. In fact, they sat in absolute silence for so long that Lily had begun to forget he was even there. This was amplified when she finally found a passage relevant to what she was looking for. She read through it, then read it again, thought about it, tried to deny it, and read it one more time. She got up and began to pace, absentmindedly pointing her wand at the fire so that flames leapt high in the grate from the burning coals. Once again she read carefully through the page, trying to find something that made it untrue. After dissecting every word and unable to refute its accuracy, she threw herself back on the couch, eyes wide in shock, and simply sat there for a few moments.

Then her eyes narrowed in anger and she leapt back up and threw the book hard across the room. It landed with a loud _smack_ against the opposite wall and fell to the floor face down. She ran her fingers through her hair and made a sound of hopeless frustration, half moan, half sob, and fell to her knees with her face held between her hands.

Still without saying anything, James got off the couch and calmly walked past her slumped form and calmly picked up the book. He examined the cover, not all too surprised at the subject matter that had the girl awake in the middle of the night, huddled in near tears on the common room floor. He nodded once, then carefully fitted the book in its place between the others on its respected shelf, and then sat down once more on the couch.

"So, I take it you figured it all out," James said softly after a few moments.

She looked up as if shocked to see him sitting there. For a moment all she did was stare at him, her sharp green eyes giving him the impression that she was looking _through_ him, not _at_ him. Finally she sighed, and with that release of breath, all the tension left her body so that once again she slumped down with her head in her hands.

"Yes," she whispered at last, one word barely audible over the crackling fire on the other side of the large room.

Part of him wanted to leave it at that and just let the poor girl grieve all over again for the memories Voldemort had been suppressing. Of course she still remembered her parents' divorce and the abuse from her father, but she just regained all the specific details of how Dean Evans had died, and even more importantly, why. She was just now remembering that she had friends who cared about her, and everything that had happened between she and James since the beginning of the year. But it appeared as if she was still remotely confused about parts of it.

"Why would he do this to me?" she murmured, more to herself than to James, and it jerked his heartstrings to hear that small, lost little girl's voice he so hated hearing her use.

"Because he's a sadistic bastard who enjoys toying with people's emotions. He doesn't need any more reason than that to break your heart continuously."

She shook her head even as he was saying it. "I thought he loved me," she insisted, and instead of sounding stronger in her insistence, she sounded even weaker, even more lost.

All at once, James was reminded of his visit with Madam Forster, right before his mother had been murdered. "_…she's started to think of abuse as attention…associating abuse with love._" Instantly his temper flared up at everyone who'd ever hurt her, because inevitably they made her like this.

He stood up and strode over to where she sat helplessly on the floor and pulled her up to her feet gently but firmly. "_I_ love you, Lily Evans. What Brady, Voldemort and even your father gave you was not love, no matter what you think. That is not what _real_ love is."

"But how can you tell?" she asked softly. "How can you tell what's real and what's not?"

He couldn't answer her for several long moments of shocked silence. How was one supposed to explain love to someone who had so precious few experiences with it?

"Well? How do you know?" she repeated, her voice growing a little louder now, her eyes looking slightly crazy. "Is there just some kind of checklist out there that I don't know about with specific examples of love? How do you _know_?"

"Of course there isn't a checklist," he finally answered. "It's different with everyone, of course. You just…know. I can't explain it, but I _can_ say with utmost certainty that that bastard Voldemort doesn't love you. He's incapable of love. He murders people for the fun of it, Lily. He can't love anything, except for maybe himself."

"What about Brady?"

"_That_ bastard was using you for sex, and as soon as Monica started those rumours about you being a slut, he broke up with you because he couldn't stand the fact that his reputation was at stake."

"And my dad? Why couldn't _he_ love me?"

James had known this was coming, but it still felt like a kick to the stomach when she said it and again he paused.

"I was his daughter, so he should have loved me, shouldn't he? He used to love me, I think…so what changed? When it did go from the real thing to the imitation?"

"I don't know for sure," he said at last. "But I can guess things changed a lot when your mom left. You said it yourself at his funeral; he was obsessed with your mom, so when she left, he became obsessed with her look-alike. I agree that he _should_ have loved you, but he didn't, and there's nothing you can do to change that now."

"Do you think I could have done something about it before?"

"No," he said honestly. "You didn't do anything wrong in the first place to deserve any of the things he did to you, so there was absolutely no way you could have changed things."

There was a small pause as she thought about his words and stared at the floor. His hand sought hers, but she shook him away and took a step backward as she looked back up at him. Once again he found himself pinned with those piercing green lasers as her eyes met his with an intensity he'd never experienced before.

"And what about you?"

He swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"How am I supposed to know your love is real and not like the others'?"

He had definitely not been expecting _this._ _But on the other hand_, he thought, _this is my chance to prove myself to her._ "Well, ultimately, it's up to you to decide if my love is real, but I can tell you right now that I know it is. I know no matter what happens in your life or mine that I will always love you. We haven't slept together, so you know I'm not saying that just because I'm using you for sex. Can you honestly say that through everything you've had happened this year, that I've stopped being there for you?"

This, apparently, was only _part_ of the right answer. Through the beginning of his speech, her expression began to warm considerably, but at the last sentence, tears began to glisten in her eyes.

"I heard you talking to Nicole earlier tonight," she whispered slowly, and immediately James's heart dropped. "It sure sounded like you were ready to give up on me then, and for something I did to save you…to save _us._"

When he didn't say anything for several long moments, she continued after clearing her throat a few times to get past the lump that had suddenly formed there. "You have every right to be upset with the situation, James. I understand why you got angry—"

"Not angry," he whispered, "just…disappointed."

For another long minute she was silent, and James could tell she was fighting hard against the tears swimming in her eyes. "I know you're _disappointed_ in me for joining your mother's murderer, but I didn't have choice."

"Yes, you did," he snapped without thinking. Once again reigning in his anger—because yes, he _was_ angry, no matter how many times he thought to deny it—he spoke more gently, "He was very clear in making sure you knew you had a choice. There was always a choice there, Lily, and you chose the wrong one."

She hung her head and took two more steps backward from him. "Maybe I did," she said. "But honestly, I don't think so. I thought you could figure out by now that whenever a choice became something horrible beyond imagining, or letting you die, I will _always_ choose to let you live. I killed my father so you would live, and I joined Voldemort for the same reason. I did those things not because I wanted to—true, I wanted my father dead, but I didn't want to become a murderer in the process, because I will always have to live with that memory, and I certainly didn't want to become some secret weapon for evil."

"So _why_? Why, Lily? You can't honestly think that my life is worth all this added agony in yours!"

She looked up, and for the first time during their whole conversation, met his eyes with such a fierce look in hers that he nearly gasped with the intensity of it. "_Of course it is_," she said passionately, and he knew she really believed that. "I would go to the ends of the earth for you, James Potter, on foot in the pouring rain if it meant keeping you in my life. I would do _anything_ for you, even if it's the last thing I want to do. I would _die _for you. Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

James was surprised to find his own eyes suspiciously moist. "But _why_?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"Because I love you!" she shouted, throwing her arms in the air in exasperation. "Isn't it obvious? I LOVE YOU! Why else do you think I would put myself through hell and back for you, you stupid boy?"

Despite the atmosphere and his own feelings, he began to chuckle and immediately regretted it.

"What?" she demanded, stepping toward him, her eyes blazing. "What's so funny?"

She actually looked quite frightening like this, with her hair a tousled mess, her eyes wild and angry, her arms flailing about at her sides, and he choked on his laughter.

"Sorry," he said hurriedly, fighting the urge to step away from her. "I'm not laughing at you! Well, okay, I am sort of, but not because you love me, it's just because—oh, bollocks."

"_What_?!" she screeched, pushing against his chest with all her might so that he stumbled back a few steps. "What on earth do you find _amusing_ about this whole conversation? Huh?"

"Nothing! Honest!"

"Then why are you laughing?!"

He knew that he was definitely in for it if he didn't think of something spectacular to say soon. "Have you ever been in a lot of trouble with someone, but just sort of started laughing in the middle of his or her 'responsibility' speech?" he asked quickly.

"What _are_ you talking about?"

"Look, forget it. I guess it's just me…but back to the conversation."

She stood there and stared at him for a solid minute, a confused look on her face, before she just shook her head. "You know what? Forget it. Trying to have a serious conversation with you is impossible."

He grabbed her arm as she turned away from him, and for the first time ever, she didn't flinch away from his touch. "Wait, _please._ I'm taking this seriously, I swear. Please, Lily, just talk to me."

"What else is there for me to say? I've said everything I needed to say to you."

"There's still something I don't understand though."

She sighed impatiently but turned back around to face him. "What?"

"Why do you love me so much that you're willing to sacrifice everything you've got left for me?"

"Everything I've got left?" she repeated incredulously. "James, _you're_ everything I've got left! I love you because…because—" She had to take a deep breath and blink away tears again before she could continue. "Because you're the first person that truly cared about me in a long time. You made me _feel_ again, even though sometimes there were emotions that hurt, memories I worked so hard to forget. Because you made me feel _alive_ for the first time in years; you made me feel beautiful for the first time in my life. Because you were the first person to truly love me, not out of obligation like my mother, or for sex, like my father and Brady, or for power like Voldemort, but for who I really am. You make me…happy. And that, if nothing else, is worth fighting for."

James was shocked into silence. He had had no idea he meant _that_ much to her. A feeling much like nausea began rising in him, and shame made his cheeks burn. He had been the one to give her a speech on fighting for what you believe in not so long ago, and yet here he was, getting mad at her for doing exactly that. But…

"Still," he whispered, "you shouldn't have traded sides for me. I would've rather died than see you Voldemort's little pet. It tears me up inside knowing he's already gotten inside your thoughts and corrupted you, Lily."

She took a small step forward, and slowly reached out for his hand and gripped the very tips of his fingers in her small, soft palm. It was a small gesture of comfort, but it gave James hope.

"Don't you see, James?" she asked quietly, not looking at him, but rather at their hands, now hanging between them, like a lot of other things hanging between them. "It wouldn't have mattered if I had said no and let you die. Voldemort would have just killed you and then made me join him anyway. At least by letting you live, I gave us a chance to be together still. With you alive, we have a chance of fighting _together_. I knew you'd do everything you could to get me back." She paused. "Well, at least, that's what I _thought_."

"I'm _sorry_," he said genuinely, desperately wanting her to know this. "I am _so_ sorry. I really let you down this time, and I don't blame you for doubting whether or not I really love you anymore. I really do," he went on quickly, "but I can see why you wouldn't think so. Here you are making all these sacrifices for me, and I've done nothing for you…"

"Hey," she said gently but seriously, "you haven't done 'nothing' for me. You've done a lot. Sure, you haven't killed anyone or joined forces with evil, but you've always been there for me when I needed someone the most, even when I refused to admit I needed anybody. Even when I tried to push you away, you never gave up on me. That means a lot to me."

After a few moments of silence, James sighed and said, "So now what? Where does this leave us?"

Lily shrugged. "I don't know," she answered honestly. Then something came to her, quite suddenly, and she asked, "Have you told anyone else about what happened? Like the teachers or Dumbledore?"

He shook his head. "No. First of all, I didn't think any of the teachers would ever believe that you, the star pupil of the school, would switch sides, and I didn't really want to tell Dumbledore, at least not yet. I needed to figure things out. I wasn't sure what he'd do if he knew you were working for Voldemort. I thought he might have been obligated to expel you."

Some part of her took a substantial amount of relief in this knowledge. It didn't feel right, thinking that the whole school knew _every_ little detail of her life's history. And she had a feeling that James was right about Dumbledore, although she would have liked to think differently. If he knew for a fact that a student was working for the darkest wizard known to date, she was certain he would have to take some sort of action, no matter how he felt about the situation. It would be out of his jurisdiction.

"Let's not think about this right now," she said suddenly, tiredly, releasing his fingers from hers. "I'm so tired of all this. I just want to have one normal day."

He laced their fingers back together and pulled her closer to him. "Well, I can't promise a normal day, but I can give you a couple hours."

"At this point, I'll take anything."

He led her up the stairs to his dorm and sat down on the bed. She came to join him, and without a word, they lay down beside each other. Moving closer, she cuddled up against his side, and he wrapped an arm around her.

And that's how they spent the rest of the night, not thinking about anything complicated; for once, they simply allowed themselves to enjoy each other's company, warmth, and above all else, love.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter I'm not completely satisfied with, but there you are. Lily and James _really_ needed to talk, and now they have. The name of the sequel will be announced at the end of the next chapter, so keep an eye out for that. Please review. I've had some really crappy past few days, and reviews would definitely cheer me up. 


	30. Exodus

**Chapter 30 Exodus**

_With you these streets are heaven_

_Now home feels so full_

_And they told me I was mistaken, infatuated_

_And I was afraid to trust my hunches_

_Now I am ready…_

_Landscapes keep changing_

_History teaches something—_

_I know I could be mistaken_

_But my heart has spoken_

_I cannot redirect my feelings_

_The ways of parting…_

_Through mountains high and valleys low_

_The ocean through the desert snow_

_We say goodbye to the friends we know_

_This is our exodus, '04_

**Exodus by Utada Hikaru**

Lily awoke the next morning to find herself in the same position she'd fallen asleep in: wrapped up safely in James's arms, and a smile came automatically to her lips. This could be the way she woke up every morning, if only—

And then reality came crashing back down upon her.

Who was she kidding? Things would never be like this, not at the rate her life was going now. Everything had become so complicated that it seemed impossible they could ever be the same again. She was no longer Lily Evans, girl genius, star pupil of Hogwarts, destined for great things. She was a turncoat now. She belonged to a whole other part of the world, whether she liked it or not, because she couldn't see a plausible way out.

"What's wrong?" were the first words out of James's mouth as soon as his eyes flickered open a few moments later. As soon as he'd said it, he knew it was a dumb thing to ask. It would have taken less time to answer the question "what's right?"

Lily shook her head and tried to smile—she should have known by now that he'd see right through it.

"Don't even think about denying it at this point," he said firmly, propping himself up on his elbows. When she just looked back at him, bemused, he clarified, "You're crying."

Surprised, she reached up and, sure enough, found her cheeks wet. "I didn't realize," she responded, staring at the tips of her now moist fingers.

He reached out and gently wiped her eyes with his thumbs. "I hate it when you cry," he said almost absently.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, pulling away from his caressing fingers, quickly trying to wipe her own tears away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I just hate seeing you hurt. But feel free to cry all you want, if that's what you need."

"_What_?" she asked, momentarily forgetting the whole reason she was crying in the first place. "What are you babbling about?"

"Well, Nicole told me that sometimes girls just need to cry in order to feel better," he admitted, sounding rather awkward.

In spite of herself, she began to giggle. "She really told you that?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Why? Don't you feel like that?"

She shook her head and tried to quiet her giggles. "No, I actually really loathe crying. It never makes me feel better."

"Oh," he said sheepishly. "Well then..."

"Thank you, though."

"For what? Making a fool out of myself?"

She choked on her laughter. "Well, you certainly did manage to cheer me up, but no. What I meant was thanks for...well, for giving me permission to cry, I suppose."

"Er...you're welcome?"

She finished wiping the remaining tears away and then cuddled back up against him. After a few moments, the few happy thoughts swirling languidly around her brain disintegrated and in their place came the horrible thoughts she'd been having before.

"This will never work, you know," she whispered.

"What won't work?" he asked, his mind already half-occupied by something else, like the fact that for once things seemed to be going perfectly.

"This. Us."

Or not. "What do you mean?" he asked, his attention once again fully trained on the conversation. "Why not?"

"_Why not_?" she repeated. "Have you been asleep for this past, oh, I don't know, _year_?"

"We could still make it work!" he insisted, but to even him it sounded weak.

"How?" she demanded. "How do you think we're going to just 'make it work'?"

"I-I don't know," he stuttered, "we just..._will. _We're in_ love_, Lily! We have to make it! Everyone knows that love makes anything and everything possible."

"You sound like a child!" she admonished, getting frustrated. "This isn't some fairytale where the prince rescues the princess and they live happily ever after just because they were in love! Romeo and Juliet were in love, too, and look what happened to them! They _both_ died in the end of that story; love didn't save _them_!"

"So what are you saying?" James asked, sounding half-defensive, half-helpless.

"What do you think I'm saying, James?" She pushed herself off the bed and stood over him, looking both formidable and powerless at the same time.

"We can make it work," he asserted stubbornly, shaking his head in denial at her words.

"How?"

When he apparently couldn't answer her, she swallowed hard and stared at the floor. "So you see what I mean then," she said softly. "We _can't_ do this, James. There's no way to make it work. I'm so sorry."

"But last night…"

"Last night doesn't change anything," she asserted sadly. "Nothing can change this situation. I just don't see a way around it."

"So, what now?" he asked despairingly. "Are we just going to be friends then?"

She shook her head. "I don't know."

"I can't accept that!" he blurted angrily. "After all we've been through, now we're going to throw it away just like that? No, I won't let you do that to us. We deserve a chance, Lily. We could _both_ use more happiness in our lives, especially you, especially now."

"But—" she started to protest, but he cut across her.

"We're going to make it," he told her fiercely, and she knew he believed it. He grabbed her hands and laced their fingers together. "We have to make it, because right now, we've got nothing else."

"I hope you're right," she whispered, both her hands and voice shaking.

He grasped her hands more tightly to cease their shaking. "I am."

"I'm sorry to interrupt your class, professor, but I was wondering if I might borrow Miss Evans for a moment."

Several heads glanced up from their potion ingredients and cauldrons and looked to the front of the dungeon to see Professor Dumbledore standing in the doorway. Now the heads swivelled from the front of the room to the back, where the redhead sat around with the Marauders.

"Go right ahead, Headmaster," Professor Slughorn beamed, gesturing for Lily to come forward. "I'm sure Potter, Lupin or Black can give her the assignment later."

"Yes, Professor Slughorn," the boys chimed in unison, watching the bewildered girl pack up her belongings and walk to the front of the room.

"There's no need to look so frightened, my dear," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "You're not in trouble."

The two made their way from the bottom of the castle to Dumbledore's office in silence. Once seated comfortably in the old man's office, he offered her a dish of candies, and she took one only out of politeness.

"If I'm not in trouble, may I ask why it is you called me out of class, Professor Dumbledore?" Lily asked, playing with the brightly wrapped sweet and avoiding his gaze.

"Certainly you may inquire."

She waited for several moments, thinking he would explain everything, but he remained quiet. At last she glanced up and found him staring calmly back at her through his peculiar spectacles, his fingers steepled in front of him.

"So…why is it that you called me out of class?"

"Ah. I thought you'd never ask," he said brightly, smiling. "You see, Miss Evans, the teachers and I have decided that it would be quite appropriate if you were to speak at the graduation ceremony in two weeks."

For a moment she was speechless. "M-me? But…why?"

"I would have thought the answer was fairly apparent," he answered, mildly surprised. "Suffice to say, Miss Evans, you have been through quite the ordeal this year and were strong enough to overcome it all. I also happen to think that out of all the students at this school, you have the most passion about being here. I'm not saying that no other student loves this school like a second home, but—"

"I don't love it like a _second_ home," she interrupted softly, her eyes staring at a point somewhere just above his left ear, "Hogwarts _is_ my home."

Dumbledore's smile widened. "Exactly. I think you have the ability and the passion to deliver a…shall we say 'going away' speech that none of the students will forget for some time. Not only that, but you also happen to be one of the most accomplished pupils of your class. You've had top grades for your whole seven years despite a great deal of personal drama. I think everyone could stand to learn a thing or two from you, Miss Evans."

By now she was blushing. "Well…I don't know what to say. Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. This is a great honour."

"So you'll do it?"

She nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you very much, Lily."

For a moment she seemed shocked. She stood up as if to leave, but turned around in the doorway.

"Sir?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Did you just…did you call me by my first name?"

He said nothing; instead he merely winked.

As soon as she was back in the common room, Remus, Sirius and James bombarded her.

"So, what was that about?"

"Did he ask about…you-know-what?"

"Were you really in trouble?"

"Well?"

"What happened?"

"Come on, Evans, are you ever going to tell us?"

She pushed through the mob of boys and set her bag down on the couch and sat beside it. Suddenly a grin crossed her face.

"What are you smiling about?" Sirius demanded as the three boys hurried to follow her.

"He asked me to speak at graduation."

"What?" Remus and James said together.

"That's _all_?" Sirius asked, clearly disappointed.

"What do you mean?" Lily asked defensively. "That's a great honour! You should be happy for me, not say, 'Oh, well, that's _all_?' He asked me for very specific and special reasons and it means a lot to me that he's giving me this opportunity!"

All three boys were speechless.

Finally Remus cleared his throat. "You're right, Lily, this _is_ a great opportunity for you. Congratulations."

The grin came back and she leapt off the couch to give Remus a giant hug. "Thank you, Remus, I knew you'd understand!"

Caught off guard, all three boys watched as she whirled around, snatched up her bag, and headed for her dorm.

"OI!" James called after her, and she halted halfway up the stairs to look back at him. "I'm happy for you too, you know!"

She dropped her bag on the stairs and ran back to give him a hug, too. "Oh, James I know you are," she said, hugging him tightly.

He grinned, apparently pleased that he wasn't left out.

"Do I get a hug, too?" Sirius asked, pouting like a neglected puppy.

Lily laughed and hugged him, too. "Of course you do, you big teddy bear!"

She turned to leave again, but James grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his arms. "Hey," he said, "you didn't say goodnight."

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Goodnight, James."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," she smiled, patting his cheek, "but really, James, there's no need to be jealous of these two!"

And with that, she whirled away and jogged up to her dorm, stopping only to scoop up her book bag.

"Yes, really, no need to be jealous old chap!" Sirius mocked, dancing out of harm's way as James aimed a kick at him.

Up in her room Lily tossed her book bag aside and changed out of her uniform into her favourite pair of comfortable pyjamas, pride and just general cheerfulness making her grin ear to ear. To speak at graduation…well, it just made her whole heart fill with genuine happiness. She crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, still unable to stop smiling.

Still, as it always seemed to happen, her happy thoughts began to lead to slightly more depressing ones. Her time at Hogwarts was almost over. Where would she go? What would she do? She'd taken the classes she needed to become an Auror, but would the Ministry want an already murderer to work for them?

_Not to mention the fact that you happen to moonlight as an agent for the Dark Lord himself,_ a nasty voice reminded her.

"He is _not_ my lord!" she shouted out loud and then, remembering where she was, listened carefully for any movements from downstairs. When the slightly muffled conversation from the boys did not waiver, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She threw off her bed covers and began pacing the room. Since talking with James that morning she had not thought once of her situation with Voldemort. While James believed this situation could be easily remedied, Lily was far more down to earth about it. She had signed herself over to the dark side, literally, if memory served her correctly. While the exact night it had happened was mostly a huge blur, she did vaguely recall being forced to prick her finger and sign her name in her own blood at the bottom of a parchment, although she did not remember the specifics of what was written there.

This was not something one could simply walk away from and hope to live. True love, no matter what James and all the stupid childhood fairytales claimed, could _not_ conquer all. This was one story, Lily herself was beginning to seriously believe, that would not end with the line, "happily ever after."

Still, she wished she could remember what that parchment had said. She did not remember any of the actual words, but she did have an overwhelming sense that not only her life depended on this, but also the lives of others, namely James.

In her heart, she knew what she had to do. It would be one of the hardest decisions of her entire life, second only to murdering her father.

She was going to have to cut off all contact to her friends after Hogwarts, especially James, and it was going to have to start as soon as possible, and with no explanation, for their own good.

* * *

Down in the common room after Lily had bounced up the stairs, the three boys took up residence in some comfortable chairs around the fire.

"I have something to show you," James said suddenly, and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small, black box.

"What is it?" Sirius, thinking it to be part of another elaborate scheme, asked eagerly, leaning forward in his chair to get a better look.

Remus, his interest also piqued now, squinted to get a good look as James pulled the box open.

For a moment, all was completely silent, even Sirius, as all three of them stared at the contents of the box.

"Well?" James inquired nervously after several long, strained minutes of silence. "What do you think?"

As if given permission to react, both Sirius and Remus exhaled the breaths they'd been holding and began talking at once.

"Are you _mad?_" Sirius demanded.

"Is this a joke?" Remus asked incredulously.

"Have you lost your marbles?!" Sirius again demanded.

"No, gentlemen, this is no joke. I assure you, this is genuine and I am quite sane."

"Well then…are you…I dunno…sure?" Remus asked, sounding a bit nervous himself.

"I have never been more serious in my life about _anything_," James told his two best friends, and indeed, the two of them had never _heard_ him sound this serious in the whole time of knowing him.

"You've thought very carefully about this?" Remus insisted.

"What's there to think about?" James asked, barely looking up from the box he still held in his palm. "She's the one, mates, I know it. I _know_ it."

Nestled inside the velvet lining of the box was a diamond ring that looked like it would fit perfectly the slender finger of a certain redhead upstairs.

"I can't imagine my life without her, and believe me, I've tried. I've tried _so_ hard just to forget she even existed. But I can't! I can't take my mind off her, _ever_. She's risked everything for me without having to think twice. She's _killed_ for me, you guys, just because I showed an interest in helping her. I love her more than I've ever loved anything in my entire life. It hurts to breathe without her around me. I wake up sometimes at night just to go watch her sleep, just to know that she's safe. I want to spend the rest of my life with her next to me."

Again, for several moments the boys were speechless. Of course Sirius and Remus had known James was obsessed with Lily, and had been pretty much ever since he'd set eyes on the too-thin, socially awkward girl nearly seven years ago, but this was the first time they'd heard a speech about how much he loved her and they actually believed it was true love, and not obsession, that motivated it.

"When are you going to ask her?" Sirius asked finally, breaking the silence.

"At graduation," James replied, still apparently mesmerized by the sparkling engagement ring. "I love her," he repeated, finally looking up to see his best mates staring back at him, and in his voice they recognized something childlike and realized he was asking for their approval.

"Good for you," Remus said, cracking a smile at his vulnerable friend. "I know you'll both be really, really happy together."

"Damn straight!" Sirius said excitedly. "But I get to be best man, right, Prongs? Right?"

* * *

Lily waited until all sounds from the common room had completely dissipated before she stole down the stairs on silent feet, wrapped up completely in her black cloak. She made her way carefully across the room to the exit and exhaled, steeling herself for what was to come.

_It's the only way,_ she told herself firmly, _the only way to keep him safe. It has to be done._

This did nothing to rid the pit of her stomach of the hot, shameful feeling it held coiled tightly. She knew the act she was going to commit could probably never be forgiven, not by God, the Ministry, or—and this was the most painful to her—James. She knew he could not see this as an act of protection but rather of betrayal. But that was a price she was willing to pay if it meant securing his safety in such troubling times.

She used her near invisibility in the black cloak and her vast knowledge from patrols to wind her way silently through the dark castle corridors, down to the dungeons, and finally to where the Slytherin House resided. Being Head Girl she knew the password, which she uttered under her breath, already knowing what a huge mistake she was making but refusing to back out of it now, and stepped inside.

In the middle of the lavishly decorated room stood a boy that made the redhead's blood boil and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck and on her arms stand on end.

"Hello," he greeted her silkily, as if caressing a lover's skin, which only made _her_ skin crawl.

Lily stood by the entrance, as far away from him as she could manage, and said nothing in return.

He took several steps forward, earning him a satisfactory shudder, and grinned maliciously. "I knew you'd come back to me," he cooed confidently, and reached out to slide his fingers down the side of her face.

She slapped his hand away and stepped to the left so he had to turn to face her again. "Don't you dare touch me, you pig. I'm not doing this for you."

Brady collected himself and plastered that sickeningly cocky smile back onto his face. "I knew you'd come and beg me to take you back."

Once again he stepped toward her, but this time she was quicker, and suddenly he was face to tip with her wand. "I told you not to even think about touching me again," she snarled dangerously. "I didn't come here because of you, you bastard."

"Then wh—?"

"For _him._ For Voldemort." She nearly choked on the name and couldn't even take pleasure in seeing Brady squirm upon hearing it.

"He told me you'd come back! He said you would give into his call and return to us!"

"Shut up!" she hissed angrily. "I'm going to make this perfectly clear, you piece of scum: I am not coming back to you, for you, or because of you. I want _nothing_ to do with you for the rest of the time there is air in my lungs. You disgust me. I'm doing this for him, and him only. You're nothing, do you understand?"

"Then why are you telling me this? That you want to come back, I mean."

"I'm using you, you stupid jackass. You're going to relay the message to the Dark Lord."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for several seconds. She tried once again to tell herself this was for the best. She let the breath out slowly, and opened her eyes. Something in them had changed. To Brady they seemed to almost glow in the dark as hard, dark emeralds, and they honestly intimidated him more than the wand still focused between his eyes.

Her voice when she spoke had changed in a similar way, too. It was hardened, angry, determined.

"Tell him I'm back. Tell him that I belong only to him now, and I'm ready to do as he wishes."

* * *

A/N: I know, I know, I have been seriously slacking in my authorial duties, and you as my loyal readers and reviewers have every right to be angry with me. You also have a right to be angry with me because this is _not_ the last chapter. I KNOW, you're probably ready to kill me for taking so long for the last chapter only to reveal that it's NOT the last chapter after all. However, I cannot in good conscious leave this as the end. It's too rushed, and I have more I want to include. I'm mad at myself for assuming I could fit everything into a single chapter and call it good, because that'd be just sloppy. To make it up to you though, I'm still going to tell you the name of the sequel, which will be The Great Escape (kinda revealing, I know, but hey). My sincerest apologies for taking so long to finish this and then saying it's not even going to be the end. I hope you'll still review though…PS the next chapter's going to be super long. Yay! Right?


	31. No, It Isn't

Chapter 31 No, It Isn't

A/N: So I wanted to include this whole song…because it's one of my all-time favourites, first of all, and secondly, it just fits this chapter perfectly. Sorry it's so long, you don't have to read it all.

_Please understand_

_This isn't just goodbye_

_This is I can't stand you_

_This is where the road crashed into the ocean_

_It rises all around me_

_And now I'm barely breathing_

_A thousand faces we'll choose to ignore_

_Curse my enemies forever_

_Let's slit our wrists and burn down something beautiful_

_This desperation_

_Leaves me overjoyed_

_With fading lights that lead us past the lives that we destroy_

_I listen to you cry_

_A cry for less attention_

_But both my hands are tied_

_And I'm pushed into the deep end_

_I listen to you talk_

_But talk is cheap_

_And my mouth is filled with blood_

_From trying not to speak_

_So search for an excuse, someone to believe you_

_And for interesting rooms_

_I'm empty with the need to…_

_Curse my enemies forever_

_Let's slit our wrists and burn down something beautiful_

_This desperation_

_Leaves me overjoyed_

_With fading lights that lead us past the lives that we destroy_

_Curse my enemies forever_

_Let's slit our wrists and burn down something beautiful_

_This desperation_

_Is leaving me overjoyed_

_With fading lights that lead us past the lives that we destroy_

_Please understand…_

_Lay rotting where I fall_

_I'm dead from bad intentions  
Suffocated and embalmed_

_And now all our dreams are cashed in_

_You swore you wouldn't lose, then lost your brain_

_You make a sound that feels like pain_

_So please understand_

_This isn't just goodbye_

_This is I can't stand you._

**No, It Isn't by Plus 44**

On the morning of graduation Lily woke up before she had to, which wasn't unusual. She had gotten two hours of sleep at most the night before, but she didn't feel tired. Nor did she feel very excited, either. In fact, she was having problems feeling much of anything. She got out of bed and began packing her trunk methodically, folding every robe, cloak, hat, scarf, uniform and tie perfectly and laying them neatly at the bottom of her trunk.

She should have felt sad that this would be the last time she woke up inside the castle she had considered her home, the safest place she knew, for the past seven years of her life. She should feel depressed packing all of the clothing she would probably never wear again, collecting all the essays and various notes stashed in the dresser beside her bed. At the very least she should be worried about the fact that after the ceremony this afternoon, she had no idea where she was going to go, where she was going to live, what she was going to do with her life.

Instead, she did everything that morning as if someone had switched the autopilot on inside her head. She robotically packed her belongings then took a luke warm shower, dressed in the satin dress robes she had laid out the night before, and sat on her bed to wait.

An hour and a half later she heard the noises of the Head Boy in the room adjacent to their shared bathroom as he stirred and also began getting ready. He, of course, would meet his three best friends in the Great Hall for breakfast, and then probably pull the last few pranks of their Hogwarts career before truly prepping for graduation.

She, on the other hand, would sit there on the bed she no longer considered her own, trying not to think. She would not go to breakfast, or the lunch the Heads of the houses had organized for all the seventh years, or to the party that was probably planned in the Gryffindor common room with lots of butterbeer, various candy and games, laughing and reminiscing. She would show up with her prepared speech for the actual ceremony, take her certificate, and leave. She wanted to avoid talking to people if there was any way to avoid it.

When at last she finally heard the sounds of James leaving the common room, she got up and entered their shared bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, her head down so she couldn't see her reflection for several minutes. When she finally looked up, she couldn't say she was surprised to see what looked back at her. Her eyes were dull and shot through with red from lack of sleep and her hair looked messy because she had done nothing with it since showering. She looked a lot like she felt: robotic, unremarkable.

For a split second she was engulfed with grief, anger and helplessness, and under this barrage of emotions she struck out at the source of the problem. The face staring back at her in the mirror shattered into a million glass shards as her fist struck it. Reflective glass rained down around her as she fell to her knees, sobbing beneath an overwhelming surge of self-loathing. One small part of her wished that James was still downstairs, could hear the mirror breaking, and run up the stairs to find her crying and comfort her, telling her everything would be okay, that he would make sure of it, and he still loved her and would no matter what.

That small part of her had slowly begun to grow under the nurturing of her friends, those four rare individuals that had truly cared about her this past year. It was the girl she really was underneath the fake smiles, the girl she would've become if not for all the traumas of her past. It was the one part of her that still desperately desired to be loved, and in the past 72 hours she had managed to shrink that part of her back down to the size it was at the worst moment in her life, when she'd killed her father. All she wanted now was to be left alone with absolutely no emotional ties to another human being.

She pulled her knees up to her chin, and in doing so, caught sight of the hand she'd used to break the mirror. Blood ran down her knuckles in little rivulets all the way down her forearm. Fascinated, she took the index finger of her left hand and trailed it through the thick, red liquid she seemed to have such a horrible history with. She remembered the first time her father ever made her bleed. It'd been a punch to the mouth, and her lip had spilt open. She remembered the coppery taste of it, how it had scared her beyond the comprehension of an eight year old. Then she remembered how her father had lain in a puddle of his own, how he must have tasted it because she recalled a thin trail leading from one corner of his mouth. How ironic. The abuse had come full circle.

She also remembered discovering James's dirty little secret with his own blood. Feeling suddenly curious she picked up one of the larger pieces of mirror and held it against her wrist. He told her it made him feel better, feeling the pain that he'd caused. It was all about control, just as throwing up had ultimately been for her.

For one, small moment, time froze and that small part of her flared into life, larger than she'd ever let it get since her parents divorce nine years ago. It screamed at her to put the sharp glass down, that she should not even be considering this, this was not who she wanted to be. It told her to think of James, and Nicole, and even Karen. They would not want Lily to start something destructive to herself, not after seeing what her last addiction had done to her. If she went through with this, the voice warned her loudly, she would not be able to stop. _Think of the disappointment in _his_ eyes whenever he looks at you, knowing what you're doing._

And for that one short moment, she very seriously considered putting the mirror down. She did not want the people she loved to know that she was so weak to consider another method of self-destruction. She could vividly remember the faces of her friends surrounding her while she lay in a hospital bed, helpless and horrified. She didn't want them to see her like that ever again. And to see the look on James's face if he ever found out she'd turned to his own coping method after coaching him to stop, to see that she had let him down, again…

"Screw that," she said, startling herself at the sound of her own voice, and the moment was lost.

_I've done so much worse than causing myself a little bit of physical pain. Compared to what I've done, he wouldn't even blink an eye at this. If he ever sees me again after graduation, disappointment is going to be the last thing showing up on his face. Rage, revulsion, even hatred. That's what I've got waiting in my future._

The image of James's face contorted with all those emotions pushed her over the edge. She'd seen his face that way once already, the night when everything went wrong, during the moment that had ruined everything and set her life's course. The night she had agreed to join the Dark Lord to save him. With that angry, disgusted face burning into her even as she screwed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, the chunk of mirror slid across her ivory skin.

And suddenly her mind went blank. The breath she'd been holding for who knew how long escaped her lips in a hiss, part pain, another part…satisfaction. She opened her eyes and glanced down at her arm, where a trail of dark red pain was erupting in a long, angry, thin line. Staring down at it, she could think of nothing she'd ever seen that was as beautiful as that cut, nor almost anything as horrifying.

As the seconds passed, the beauty of it began to fade as the horror took over. The blood was not stopping, in fact coming faster now than when it had started. In a panic she threw down her weapon and leapt to her feet, searching for a towel or a washcloth, anything to press up against the wound. She seized the first thing she saw, a damp white towel hanging on the shower bar, and held it tightly against her arm. A few moments later automatic tears she barely registered began leaking down her face as the blood seeped through the towel.

She could not say what motivated her feet to move at that moment, toward the door and down the stairs, picking up speed as they led her through the portrait hole. She couldn't say that she had any true desire to live, or at least that she was aware of, yet she knew her feet were rushing her toward the hospital wing, and to the young nurse there.

"There you are, I've been looking all—hey, wait! Where are you going?"

Her brain registered a voice calling from behind her, though she had no idea whether or not it sounded familiar, nor if it was male or female. Her attention was entirely taken up by the rapidly darkening towel pressed up against her arm.

She heard more voices, though, coming from a little farther away than the first.

"Did you find her?"

"Is that her, running off? What'd you do, scare her away?"

New sounds now, like several pairs of feet coming toward her. There was a new sensation, too, a dizzy, detached sort of feeling starting in her legs. Her head was beginning to feel fuzzy, and her eyes slipped in and out of focus on the walls around her and stairs she could see only a few feet in front of her.

"Hey, Lily! Wait up!"

"Lily! Hello? Hold on a second!"

"I think there's something wrong…"

It suddenly seemed as if her neck was no longer capable of supporting the weight of her head. As a loud roaring noise filled her ears, drowning out all other sounds and her head drooped toward her chest, the world tilted and the stone floor lurched under her feet, rushing up to meet her body.

For a moment that at once felt like an eternity and yet not nearly long enough, she laid on the floor, the cold, smooth rock against her cheek the only real thing keeping her conscious, and contemplated the idea of death. It wasn't an unwelcome thing, not really. She could accept it, if it were to be right here; on her own terms and in the place she loved above all others. It wouldn't be so bad. After all, it didn't even hurt, though whether that was from shock or just the same general numbness she'd been feeling all day, she didn't know.

But then through the haze she _did_ feel something, at last. Someone's arms around her, one slipping behind her knees and the other around her shoulders, and then the floor beneath her was gone as she was lifted up easily; her body was completely limp. She vaguely heard rumbling, almost like thunder, but it seemed very, very far away. Then answering thunder, closer now. So close, in fact, she felt the vibration of it in her bones. And then she heard the most beautiful sound in the world, right up against her ear. It was the kind of steady _thump, thump, thump_ that could only belong to a heartbeat. Her own heart began to beat out its own erratic, frantic pattern, as if the sound of someone else's heart still working gave her own the desire to continue her life, too.

Again she experienced the odd moment where her body was torn between two opposite things. The heartbeat was quite honestly the best thing she'd ever heard, the most beautiful sound she could imagine, but at the same time it was annoying. She had finally come to terms with her death (again), she was ready and waiting, for goodness sake's, and now this one simple sound awoke in her the desire to live again. Would the roller coaster madness never end? Why wasn't anything ever simple?

The next few moments—or were they hours?—were a total blur. All she could clearly recall was that glorious and frustrating sound. She had other, brief and fuzzy memories. The first was the awareness that the sound was gone, replaced by lots of thunder, some deep, one much more high-pitched, in anxiety, perhaps? Anger? She couldn't know. Wakening to bright light, blurry faces swimming at the edges of her dark, clouded vision. More blank, blackness. Wakening once more to more definite shapes. The nurse. What was her name? Popkins? Pumpkin? Puffy? Pomfrey. That was it. Her lips were moving, but so was the rest of the world. No sounds this time.

The next time she awoke, things were virtually back to normal. She could hear sounds, and as long as she didn't shoot any sidelong glances at anything, her sight was perfect. Her limbs felt heavy, and she felt very weak. But at least she was aware of her body. That was a good sign, right? Well, unless she was dead. But shouldn't there be hot, burning fire all around her? She sure wouldn't be going to heaven. Murderers didn't get that privilege. God had forsaken her, anyway. How else would everything go so terribly wrong?

_Enough_, she told herself firmly. _You aren't dead. This is the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Shit, wait. What happened? And how the hell am I going to explain this?_

She did not get nearly enough time to contemplate her answer. The nurse was at her bedside as if there had been bells on the girl's eyelids to alert the woman to her state of sleep or lack thereof.

"Are you with us this time, Miss Evans? You look better this time around, well, all things considered…" The nurse continued to babble while she picked up the redhead's limp wrist to take a pulse. "Heartbeat's much steadier, although it's still a bit erratic. Miss Evans, can you hear me?"

Feebly, she nodded. She didn't trust her vocal chords yet.

"Good. Another good sign. Now perhaps you'd care to regale me with the tale of how you ended up here?"

Lily didn't like this nurse's sense of sarcasm. She decided to return the annoying favour, but it required several tries to clear her throat to get a much rougher version of her voice to come out.

"Well, I'm not sure how I got here. I think someone carried me? But don't quote me on that. I wasn't really myself at the time."

Pomfrey didn't appreciate the humour, either. "Miss Evans, please. This is a very serious situation. You realize you're due to deliver a life inspiring speech in two hours? I'm finding it difficult to come up with a reason a suicidal girl should go encourage her peers."

Though the words themselves should've made her redhead temper (or at least a watered-down, weak version) flare to life, but the nurse said them in a very gentle tone that eased the sting. She tried to think through the slight haze in her brain to find a quick, believable excuse. She settled on a half-truth, along the same lines the nurse was thinking, with only one major difference.

"I wasn't trying to commit suicide." That was true. It wasn't an intentional 'I want to die' thing. "It's just…I've been experiencing flash backs lately. To the abuse, and the…the m-murder." She only stuttered once on the word, and quickly pushed ahead. "My self-esteem has been taking a hit I guess. I'm trying not to hate myself." An outright lie. "But I can't use my usual coping method, because I'm trying to be good. But I caught a glance at myself in the mirror, and I guess I sort of lost it. I threw a punch at it, and the end result was a lot of blood."

The nurse looked sceptical, but the true parts thrown in there, and brutal honesty of the actual truth, had its desired affect. She wanted to believe the poor girl with a hard life. Lily took a chance, and threw out the hook.

"If I'd been trying to commit suicide, why would I have been found in the hallway on my way here? I could've stayed in the bathroom and just bled. No one would've found me for hours."

She could tell from her face that the nurse had taken the bait. There was a short pause, and then,

"I suppose that's true. However, I still don't know about your speech, with the condition you're in…"

"Please, Madam Pomfrey. I need to give this speech. It'll really help me, you know, getting some stuff off my chest. I want to encourage people not to be like me and wallow in self-pity. Please. Please, Madam. I _need_ this."

Lily stood on the podium beneath the warm afternoon sun, looking out at all her fellow seventh years, who were all dressed in beautiful dress robes the colours of their houses; the Hufflepuffs wore solid yellow gowns with black trim and a black sash across their waists, Ravenclaws wore deep purple as the primary, and grey trim and belts, Slytherins were dark green and sparkling silver, and the Gryffindors were rich, dark red and shining gold. Behind the sea of colourful students sat their relatives, some dressed in traditional robes of varying shades, others donning very handsome Muggle clothing. Karen Evans was seated in the first row behind the students, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief; Petunia sat stiffly next to her, glaring around at all the witches and wizards.

Sitting in a neat row behind Lily herself were all the teachers; the redhead turned around and smiled at them all, and they beamed back at her. Also sitting in the row there was James, whose eyes met hers for a brief moment, and he alone did not smile back. Slowly she turned around again to face the large audience. Clearing her throat, she took out her wand, pointed it at her throat, and said, "Sonorous!"

"I think I can speak for all of us Hogwarts students," she said, her magically modified voice easily carrying across the grounds and extinguishing the excited chatter from the crowd, "when I say that Hogwarts has been like a second home to me. I think it can also be agreed upon that a lot of us never thought this day would come."

At these last words, the students laughed and called out in agreement, and Lily smiled.

"But it has come," she went on after the raucous had died down again. "Here we are, sitting out here in the sun in these hot robes, and I know a lot of you are wondering when I'll ever be done! But I just want to say—" She paused, swallowing with great difficulty past the lump that had formed in her throat, her eyes watering slightly. Everyone instantly fell into a hush, knowing this next bit of the girl's speech was serious.

"I just want to say thanks," she went on at last, "to all of you: teachers, peers, and most of all, friends. When I turned eleven and received my Hogwarts letter, it was literally my last chance, my last hope that something better waited for me. I know that when I first came to the school I didn't fit in. I was known as the quiet, shy, book-ish girl who always did her homework and never got in trouble, and then later, I was known as the girl whose temper often got the best of her."

There was some good-natured laughter at this, because everyone had seen at least one incident in which Lily's temper had caused her to do something violent.

"It wasn't until very recently that I got to know some of you and became friends," she continued after it had gotten quiet again. "And I know that not all of us here are friends, but I still wanted to thank you all, because without you guys, I don't know what my experience here at Hogwarts would have been like. Yes, there are moments I wish I could go back and change to make things better, but honestly, even those events have shaped me, moulded me into the young lady standing before you all today.

"It feels like there is so much to say to everyone, but I just don't have enough words," she continued. "So much has happened this year, some of it good, some horrible. It's easy enough to remember the bad things—the stories in the _Profit_ about strange disappearances, the letters from the Ministry about deaths in the family—but sometimes what's hard to recall are all the good things, like making new friends, getting a good grade on a test, trips to Hogsmeade, winning a Quidditch match. In these dark times, I suggest that you frequently think of the little things like that, because even though they're little happy moments, they're still happy. Focus on the good times. Don't dwell on life's losses and hurts, but rather the fact that after every night of darkness, the sun always rises and warms the earth. Thank you, and congratulations, seventh years; we did it!"

She stepped down from the podium and took the empty seat next to the Head Boy. They hadn't spoken all day, and quite honestly Lily was hoping to make it without doing so again. She knew he would bring up the hospital incident; it had been he who'd brought her there after finding her in the hallway. She didn't feel like trying to explain everything, especially since he knew her too well to buy the half-truth she fed the nurse. Besides that, it seemed silly to talk to him when she was just going to leave, vanish without a trace if she could manage it.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to drag on and on. Lily knew she should be paying better attention; this was a huge milestone in her life, and she'd want to look back on it later in life, without a doubt, but she could not force her mind to stay on the task at hand. It kept wandering to what the future was going to hold, which apparently seemed like nothing good.

Finally, though, what seemed like days later, it finally ended. The students, in a stunningly Muggle-like way, tossed their pointed black hats into the sky, and, very belatedly, Lily followed their example. The sea of multihued students erupted into raucous laughter, screaming, crying, cheering. It was over. Finally, their seven years together inside this castle, growing up and recognizing their gifts, had come to a close. She could not allow herself to dwell to much on the sense of overwhelming loss gathering like a storm of angry clouds ready to open up and pour down upon her, for she knew that if she gave into grief now, it would never end. There was simply too much to cry for by now.

Numbly she began to fight her way through the mass chaos that was the Hogwarts students she'd grown up with and their families. She nodded and smiled at the very few people who caught her eye and waved, but deftly managed to lose herself in the crowd before they could speak to her. But, inevitably, she came across the two people she knew she would not be able to avoid. Karen and Petunia.

"Oh, baby, I'm so proud of you!" Karen gushed tearfully, throwing her arms around her youngest daughter and sobbing into her shoulder. Petunia simply rolled her eyes, and glared all around her, as if daring one of her sister's classmates to come up to her.

Lily stood stock still, not returning her mother's embrace. Karen finally seemed to notice this, and she took a step back, sniffing emotionally and wiping again at her eyes with her handkerchief.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sounding hurt.

Again, Lily's brain seemed to switch to autopilot. She blocked all emotion from her voice, and her mind stopped assessing Karen's. "I'm leaving."

"You're…what? Leaving? What do you mean?" Then something seemed to register, and she gave a nervous giggle. "Well, of course you are, honey. You just graduated! You can't stay here forever."

_Although I'd definitely love to,_ Lily thought in anguish, before she once again stamped out her emotions. "No, that's not what I meant. I meant…I'm not coming home to you, Mum. I'm definitely not going back to Daddy's house. I'm going to live in the wizarding world now."

For a moment even Petunia seemed to listen to these words with shock. Karen was completely frozen in shock. "Who will you live with?" she asked in a small voice. "Will you visit?"

"I'll live alone," she responded robotically. "And no, I don't think I'll visit."

A very tense silence followed this proclamation. "Why?" Karen whispered after several moments.

"Because we're not a family. We haven't been for a really long time. You know that. There's no point in pretending now, not with everything that's happened. It's best this way."

"Well I say good riddance to you," Petunia sneered, sniffing dismissively and pointing her nose in the air.

For a moment Lily felt the familiar snub of pain her sister's rejection used to bring her, but she managed to squash that, too. "Goodbye, Petunia," she responded in a dead voice. "Goodbye, Mum."

And with that, she turned on her heel, and disappeared into the crowd without a backward glance. She did not stop for the people now calling her name. She picked out Nicole's voice, along with the rest of the Stone family, and also Remus. However, the one voice she'd been expecting to call out for her did not, and she found that this hurt her the most, even though she'd been trying to prepare herself for the inevitable separation.

She still refused to permit herself to cry, although the temptation now was so severe it edged on a physical pain. This was it.

This was…the end.

A/N: WHEW. My goodness, it's OVER! Apparently the missing element was a dire illness. I started this story when I was sick and quarantined to my house with nothing better to do, and now here I am, two years later, sick with who knows how many different things (the doctors don't even know!) that happen to range from a severe kidney infection to e. coli. (Yeah, random, I know.) But apparently that was the missing link in me finishing this chapter. I just needed to be ill again. Well, whatever the cause/cure, there you have it. The end for now. Who knows when I'll be able to post the sequel? Just keep your eyes out, eh? Alright, my lovelies, please lemme know what you think =)


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